


No Vacancy

by KaliopeShipsIt



Series: No Vacancy Trilogy [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, BAMF Cora, BAMF Laura Hale, Bottom Derek, Derek mpreg, Derek-centric, Hale Family Feels, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Omega Derek, One Night Stands, Pining, Pining Derek, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Protective Laura Hale, Sassy Erica, Top Stiles Stilinski, Unplanned Pregnancy, and a tiny bit of angst, everyone is human, societal prejudice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliopeShipsIt/pseuds/KaliopeShipsIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"29-Year Old Omega (muscular/scruffy/perpetual sourface) Seeking for Alpha-Baby-Daddy. Might or might not be named Stiles"</p><p>Derek is an unusually muscular Omega with irregular heats and dumb luck.</p><p>Stiles is an unusually polite Alpha who forgets to leave his number.</p><p>Laura is a furious Alpha who wants to wear Stiles' balls on a golden chain.</p><p>Cora is a pragmatic Alpha who composes Craigslist ads.</p><p> </p><p>... aka, my first A/B/O-Fic</p><p> </p><p>Edit: This work is now a trilogy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.
> 
> Attention: I do not give permission to put this work on Goodreads or any such site. 
> 
>  
> 
> My Lovelies!
> 
> I've been dabbling with the idea of writing an A/B/O-fic for a while and I actually sketched out a storyline over a year ago, but that one's about 3 times darker than "Expiration Dates" was and I'm not quite sure I'll ever get around to writing it, tbh.
> 
> Therefore, I decided to go the lighthearted route for now (relatively speaking) and came up with this (it's only 4 chapters so I don't think it'll take me too long to post all of it). 
> 
> I also played around with some of the established A/B/O-rules: for example, men and women can be Alphas and Omegas respectively and only Omegas conceive and birth children, meaning that chromosomal gender has nothing to do with it). Omega men tend to be a bit on the smaller, slender side (hence Derek's dating issues) and society at large is mostly tolerant but there are still some prejudices of various kind that will get touched on in the story (without becoming the focus).
> 
> As always, if I missed a vital tag, let me know :). Enjoy!

When Stiles drapes himself all over Derek and kisses the shit out of him Derek almost falls off the barstool in shock, somewhat unprepared for the guy to actually _want_ him.

After all, it’s been almost two years since his last hook-up and even though he goes out sometimes – usually dragged through the door by his best friend’s no-nonsense girlfriend – people usually … don’t go for someone like him.

It’s not like he’s oddly misshaped, facially disfigured or even asymmetrically featured – not by a long shot.

In fact, Derek’s actually a very handsome guy by conventional standards, with expressive hazel eyes, broad, strong shoulders, toned and defined muscles from his slightly-more-than-average workout routine, and the ability to grow a thick beard that sometimes makes the younger boys at Cora’s school cry in envy when he brings her lunch.

However, he’s also an Omega, and, as far as he’s aware there is not even porn out there that caters to the tiny-only-visible-under-a-microscope niche of people who like their Omegas big, muscular, and sour-faced (Laura’s words).

Which – more than everything – is somewhat of a damning indicator that he’s doomed to a lifetime of loneliness and misery.

“It’s the beard, Boo-Boo,” Laura says with the tone of a wise old man when he stares at the pots sullenly one day, feeling especially grumpy after last night’s potential Alpha-hook-up was particularly rude about it once he’d gotten a good whiff of Derek’s Omega scent.

“If you just shaved a little bit maybe Alphas would get the hint earlier. I mean, I’ve definitely seen _some_ porn out there where the Omega was a bit bigger, so …”

“The particular porn you’re talking about is called _breeding_ -porn and I’m pretty sure artificially inseminating myself to lure in a willing Alpha with a display of fertility is going to decrease my chances from 1 percent to minus 100. No thank you … pervert!” Derek snaps back and Laura shrugs, mutters, “I will not be shamed. Also, that was kinda fat-shamy, don’t you think?” before she ruffles his hair with a gentle, almost apologetic smile.

Derek loves his Alpha sisters, both of them; loves them very much, in fact, so much that he agreed to become a cook full-time on _very_ short notice when Laura opened a restaurant and, two hours before the grand opening, her sous chef knotted the head chef next to the burgers and then ran off to Vegas to get hitched.

Derek has no training whatsoever but he’s always liked to cook and the restaurant has been doing fine, so he thinks he’s doing a pretty damn good job.

As the only cook, however, his duties take up quite a bit of his time and between spending his time in the kitchen, the gym, and with his sisters Derek barely has time for a social life.

He sometimes feels a bit bad that he barely sees his best friend outside the gym these days, but then again Boyd is spending almost all of his time with Erica, lately, and Derek is expecting the wedding-invitation in the mail any day now.

Of course he’s also expecting to be asked to be the best man, but at this point he almost wonders if Erica and Boyd are going to fight over who exactly gets him as the best man, since Boyd’s fierce Omega girlfriend adores Derek to the moon and back.

It is customary for the Omega part of the marital party to get the Omega best man or maid of honor but Erica and Boyd are both Omegas, so Derek isn’t quite sure if they’re actually allowed to have a wedding to begin with.

Alpha-Alpha and Omega-Omega marriages are not forbidden, technically, but they and their inevitable infertility-issues are still heavily frowned upon by the Procreation-Pride-Movement.

Derek, who’s known Boyd since the guy accidentally whacked him over the head with a tractor in the Kindergarten sandbox and promptly burst into tears in apology, is quite aware that Boyd’s Alpha siblings are very passionate PPM supporters and it makes him worry sometimes, though he’s certain that nothing will stop Erica from dragging his best friend to the altar at some point.

All in all Derek is just grateful that neither of them are dead-set on shared biological children, sometimes almost in awe of how they just don’t seem to care about societal expectations about them.

It’s not like they haven’t made advances in the past decades and no sensible person expects their Omega to stay barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen at all times (“You know, Boo-Boo, you already got the kitchen part down beautifully, so if you want to make your old Alpha sister proud I wouldn’t quite mind you gallivanting around in there all round and happy, but please leave on the shoes, I don’t want that health-inspector asshole Harris to get on my case again and …. _Aaaaaah_! I was joking Derek, damn it, stop tickling me, I’m your Alpha I … _CORA, HELP ME_!”) but a child-less Omega is still looked at with pity and – in some cases – suspicion, since there certainly must be something wrong with them if they can manage to turn off their most basic instinct.

Derek considers himself a selective nurturer, at best, doesn’t quite feel his biological clock ticking as loudly as some Omegas he has met in the past, but all overall he’s fine with his designated gender.

Laura, meanwhile, embraces her Alpha nature whole-heartedly, sometimes to the point of becoming an overprotective stereotype, and Derek’s quite happy that Cora is more mellow, certain that living with two Alphas head-butting all the time would get old fairly quickly.

Cora is a 10th grade biology teacher and when Derek brings her lunch to school – she keeps insisting she can pack her own but it’s an unspoken agreement between them that she never will – he sometimes sees the Alpha shining through her eyes when a student or colleague makes a hurtful remark about him and his Omega-atypical appearance, even though she usually pretends to be appalled by overbearing and territorial displays of dominance.

Derek can stand up for himself, no question, but his inner Omega loves Cora to the moon and back for always having his back.

His inner Omega doesn’t control his life, however, and even though Derek sometimes can’t help feeling a bit wistful when he passes a pregnant Omega on the streets with children hanging off of each arm he’s happy not to be tied down yet, perfectly fine with the fact that he’s approaching his thirties and is still unmated.

It bothers Laura, he can tell, but he knows deep down it has nothing to do with societal expectations and everything to do with the fact that Laura can’t help projecting her own worries onto him, so he doesn’t give her a hard time about it too much.

Laura is 32 and yearns for an Omega and a truckload of children with all her heart, but his sister is also impossibly picky and as much as it pains Derek to say it there simply don’t seem to be Omegas out there who fit her expectations.

Essentially, Laura is looking for a university professor on a trajectory for the Nobel prize who’ll give her ten kids along the way and Derek just … doubts it’s going to happen.

Knows that Omegas who choose their career inevitably have to sacrifice that part of them because society and their work laws make it almost impossible to achieve both.

Knows that Laura’s desperate instincts to become the Alpha of her own little family are breaking her heart and feeling his own break just a little for her in return.

Then there’s him, undeniably Omega on the inside, the stuff of Alpha-Magazine covers on the outside, and when he goes out to meet people there are literally only three possible outcomes.

Usually, he’s either approached by an Omega who eventually catches on to the fact that he’s not the Alpha he or she thought he was and leaves in a mortified huff or he’s propositioned by an Alpha who’s into Alphas.

Those encounters go even more horribly, generally speaking, because despite the fact that they are looking for Alphas and obviously don’t conform to societal expectation, most of his almost-hook-ups can’t hide their disapproval of him regardless, some instincts simply too deep to be ignored.

If he’s lucky it’ll just be a snort, maybe a glare, if he’s unlucky they start lashing out at him verbally, and Derek’s just tired of it, almost to the point where he doesn’t even hold out hope for option three, that an Alpha who’s actually into Omegas approaches him.

Doesn’t hold out hope because even on the rare occasions that an Alpha ignores his muscled and scruffy exterior to the point where he can get close enough to confirm Derek’s Omega nature via scenting he still gets a verbal tongue-lashing 90 percent of the time, delivered by shallow Alphas who are angry at themselves for being attracted to his scent, too insecure to take him home and have the rest of the club think they just hooked up with another Alpha.

Stiles, who, upon initially mistaking Derek for an Alpha, had opened the conversation with, “So I spent my entire childhood obsessing over this perfect, strawberry-blonde Omega goddess named Lydia, right, but then I had this really awkward phase where I accidentally stalked the only gay Alpha in school until he finally admitted that I was attractive to Alphas, so help me out here, can I still work it?” and then promptly died a metaphorical death of embarrassment when Derek had bared his neck and thus sent out a dash of Omega pheromones with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, clearly belongs to the rare 10-percent category.

Derek feels almost dizzy with the realization when the younger man buries his nose against his neck, breathes him in deeply with a contented rumble in his chest while he’s running his hands all over Derek’s muscular chest, arms wrapping around him and fingers digging into his broad back.

Derek doesn’t need to feel Stiles’ growing erection against his hip to be able to tell how turned on the Alpha is and his scent is intoxicating, perfect, even.

They stumble out of the bar in a tangle of limbs, take a taxi to the hotel Stiles is staying at (“I’m in town for my best friend’s wedding, gosh, dude, if I make it through this weekend without dying of tear-induced dehydration I’ll high-five myself for the rest of the year!”) and when they are in the elevator Derek decides to take a chance, hooks his strong arms under Stiles’ legs and pushes him up the glass-paneled wall, holds him easily as he grinds against him.

Stiles proves he made the right call by letting out a garbled string of curses and moans, his teeth dragging over Derek’s lip as his kisses become more demanding, almost brutal in their intensity.

By the time they make it to the bed Derek is thrumming with need, his cheeks red and chest flushed as he gasps, moans, fingers scrambling for Stiles to come closer.

He’s not due for a heat for at least two to three weeks but this almost feels like one, his core burning up with desire and even though he’s not giving off the right pheromones Stiles’ eyes burn Alpha-red when he kisses all over Derek’s chest, his belly, the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, fingernails raking through his leg-hair as he kisses the tip of Derek’s cock, looks up for confirmation, grins, swallows him down.

Derek’s back arches off the sheets and Stiles pins him down, hands firmly grasping his waist as he sucks, swallows around him, makes these little hums in the back of his throat that vibrate throughout Derek’s entire body.

When the Omega is sure he’s about to go insane with the need to be filled Stiles lets go off him with a dirty pop, lips glistening with spit as he takes a deep breath.

“May I knot you?” Stiles asks breathlessly, looking up from between Derek’s legs with those insanely long eyelashes and Derek nods, moans ridiculously even at the thought.

His body is pliant, relaxed under Stiles’ fingers, though not as ready as he’d be if he actually _was_ in heat and Stiles is patient, opens him up nice and gentle, waits until Derek is literally trying to impale himself on his fingers before he presses in, sheathing himself up to the hilt inside the Omega’s body.

Stiles alternates between long, languid thrusts and pounding into him mercilessly and Derek loves it, wants more of it, doesn’t want it to ever end.

They come within two minutes of each other and once the knot has finally gone down Derek blinks sleepily, smiles and stretches like a lazy cat when Stiles cleans him up.

They fall asleep in a tangle of limbs, feeling deeply and truly sated.

It seems like they’ve only slept for an hour when a phone buzzes loudly and Derek lets out a surprised “humph” when Stiles almost brains him as he lunges over him, exclaims, “Oh my god, sorry!” before he reads the text, lets out a string of curse-words.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! I am _so_ sorry, I just realized I have to be at the church in like … ten minutes? Shit! Well, not that it’s a bad thing, my best friend is getting married and his bride is not religious so they compromised on one secular ceremony and one big church-wedding for him and the rest of the Delgado family. Scotty is going to look absolutely _handsome_ in a tux, I’ll probably cry a little. If I’m still allowed to be best man after showing up an epically two hours late, which is my most optimistic estimate at this point! Wait? Did I tell you that last night? Crap, crap, crap, where’s my right shoe … ah, there it is, wait, how did it get _up_ there, I … anyways, listen Derek, I hate to run out on you, I don’t do that, normally, but I _really_ have to go or else Noshiko will cut off my head with a samurai sword for ruining the wedding. I really love my head, both of them, actually, and at this point I’m not quite sure which one she’ll chop off, so I better get going! But I had a lot of fun with you, _god,_ so much fun, you don’t even know! Well, you were there, so of course you know, but yeah, this was great and I’d buy you breakfast if I wasn’t facing decapitation so … see ya!”

Derek barely has time to nod before Stiles stumbles out of the room like a giraffe on speed and when the door slams shut he lets out a fond chuckle, still a little baffled but mostly amused.

He dresses quickly, throws one last fond look at the bed before he closes the hotel door behind him and it isn’t until he’s yawning over the first batch of burgers that he realizes he just came from the best sex he’s had in years and has no way of contacting the guy whatsoever.

Derek sighs, shrugs; decides to not wallow over it.

A part of him definitely wishes he’d gotten Stiles’ number, but maybe it’s for the best – Derek’s a quiet guy and he’s not quite sure he could handle that much energy on a regular basis.

And if that part of him slowly grows as he lies awake at night and remembers the softness in Stiles’ eyes, the pearly sound of his laughter, and the gentleness of his touch then no one needs to know about it.

There’s no use anyhow.

 

_2 Months Later_

Laura’s entire body is thrumming with barely suppressed Alpha rage when she drags Derek into the Omega-Clinic and if he wasn’t feeling so damn nauseous Derek would probably find it in himself to see the humor of his 5 feet 3 sister literally frothing at the mouth as she plans out how to avenge his virtue, hissing with such terrifying vitriol that the waiting room clears out within minutes.

There’s a teeny-tiny chance it’s not what they think it is, but Derek _knows_ he’s pregnant, knows it deep inside his bones, has known for at least three weeks, if he’s completely honest with himself, and his emotions are such a complicated mess he’s not even trying to decipher them right now.

His heats have always been irregular – “Maybe if you cut back on the physical exertion a little, Omega-bodies really aren’t made for that much muscle and I really think it would normalize your heat-cycle if you gained a little body-fat” his last Omega-Doctor had lectured him one time and Derek retaliated by changing doctors and adding an extra gym-hour, because what even – and so missing one didn’t raise any alarm-flags for him.

At first.

Neither did the exhaustion and the frequent headaches, after all, they live in a college town and the end of the semester is always one of their busiest time of the year, but when he takes a shower six weeks after his one-night stand with Stiles and hisses in discomfort while he’s soaping up his chest he grows … suspicious.

Not enough to subject himself to the judgmental eyes of the salesperson scanning the pregnancy-test at the cash-register while staring at his ring-less finger and bonding-bite-less neck, but suspicious enough to pay more attention to his body, telling himself that there’s no way Omegas can get pregnant outside of a heat and especially not from a one-night stand.

A week later he starts feeling nauseous almost constantly, barely holds it together during rush-hours, the smell of rich food assaulting his nose and making him light-headed, leaving him so pale Laura almost sends him home twice, her eyes narrowed and her eyebrows stuck in a perpetual frown as she looks him up and down, sniffs, shakes her head against whatever she’s thinking.

She continues to watch him like a hawk when they go home from work, joined by an increasingly agitated Cora, and for a couple of days Derek pretends not to notice the worried looks on their faces, the way in which they almost treat him like a china doll, something that so far even Laura hasn’t done in her Alphaest of moments.

He also definitely pretends not to see the shimmer of Alpha-red in their eyes whenever they walk into the living room and see him curled up on the couch with his hand massaging his upset stomach, pretends that his belly and what’s happening inside it have not become the big elephant in the room, but it’s becoming harder to ignore it, even if his mind keeps telling him it cannot be possible.

Almost two months after he slept with Stiles Derek throws up right into the large pot of lobster-bisque that was supposed to serve as the highlight of their weekly “Come for the Sandwich Stay for the Soup”-Special and Laura finally has enough.

“Your smell is about to explode my non-existent ovaries and you’re becoming a health-hazard to my restaurant! You’re going to see Doctor McCall and on the way there we’re going to have a long conversation about why you’d _ever_ feel the need to hide the fact that you’re dating someone, because I’m sorry Boo-Boo, the free vacancy sign of your Omega-parts is definitely turned off!”

It takes Derek three tries to explain – two of them interrupted by almost painful bouts of anxious dry-heaving – until Laura realizes that he’s not only decidedly _not_ dating someone but also doesn’t have the ‘responsible’ Alpha’s number and by the time Cora stumbles into the clinic in a panic his big sister is about ready to murder Stiles and wear his balls as a trophy.

“What kind of irresponsible Alpha _knots_ an Omega and not even leaves his fucking number!?” she yells as she paces up and down the waiting room like a furious cat and Derek sighs unhappily when Cora sits down next to him without a word and wraps her arms around him, rubbing her cheek against his to calm him.

Alpha-Omega pheromones are mostly ineffective between family-members, but the presence of a concerned Alpha is enough to dull the anxiety in Derek’s gut, not enough to make him any less nauseous but calming him to a point where he doesn’t feel like he’s vibrating out of his skin anymore.

He doesn’t protest when Laura and Cora snarl at the nurse who suggests he might want some privacy during the examination and when the OBGYN points out the baby’s heartbeat on the monitor Laura’s angry snarls turn into proud sobs.

“It’s auntie-hormones, I can’t help it!” she sniffles when Cora politely asks her if she’s done with the theatrics for now and even though Derek feels like he’s been hit with a sledgehammer he’s grateful for both Laura’s tears and Cora’s silent wonder, holding on to both of their hands tightly as the doctor gently explains to him that while it is technically impossible to conceive outside of a heat it is definitely possible to conceive on the _onset_ of a heat and that – given Derek’s history of irregular heats to begin with – she’s about 99 percent that’s exactly what happened.

Derek nods, not really listening because he’s too busy staring at his little baby, tells himself not to turn into a blubbering Omega-mess taken straight from the telenovelas Cora pretends she doesn’t watch religiously as the blessedly judgment-free Alpha doctor points out tiny legs, arms, and the head on the screen, estimates – to no one’s surprise – that Derek’s about 8 weeks along and calculates his due-date for early February.

He leaves the clinic with a bunch of pamphlets about nutrition, an appointment for his next check-up, and a promise to ease up on the work-out routine, and Laura and Cora tactfully leave him alone until after dinner before they sit him down on the couch with serious expressions, both of them in full Alpha-mode.

“So Boo-Boo, are you sure Erica and Boyd don’t know who he was?” Laura asks, her fingers digging into his not-at-all swollen feet as she massages the soles and Derek nods with a sigh, both at the content of Boyd’s confused text message and Laura’s well-meaning but sub-par foot-massage skills.

“Stiles seems like a very uncommon name. I’m sure he’s easy to find on social media,” Cora mutters absentmindedly, one hand lightly stroking his hair as the other flies over her tablet, already typing the word ‘Stiles’ into every search machine there is.

An hour later Cora looks about as nauseous as Derek feels, her eyes silently asking him if it’s possible the Alpha gave him a false name and Laura is once again fuming in anger, fingers tugging at her hair and ripping out strands accidentally in her agitation.

“Do you remember anything else? The friend’s name, maybe?” Cora asks and Derek frowns.

“Scott … his best friend’s name was Scott. Delgado, I think. He also mentioned the future wife, someone named No … Noshi … wait, I’ve got it, her name was Noshiko!” he replies, anxiously watching Cora as she types in more search terms, heart plummeting to his feet when she swears.

“There are hundreds of Scott Delgados all over the country and at least 70 percent of them haven’t even graduated yet. Also, there is not a single Noshiko Delgado registered in the entire country, so unless you want us to call every single Scott Delgado on this list I don’t think …”

“Of course we’ll call them!” Laura interrupts her, hands already grabbing for the computer as she looks for her phone and Cora hands it over quickly, her eyes fixed on Derek, who can feel his stomach rolling once more, as if his baby is staging a violent protest against the entire mess of a situation.

“It’ll be ok Derek, we’ll figure this out,” she says quietly as Laura proceeds to get chewed out by a 90-year old Scott Delgado on the East Coast who’d been deeply asleep when she called and mistakes her for a telemarketer who wants to sell him a ‘Stiles-machine’ (“What? No Sir, it’s not a sex-machine, why would you … ok yes, sex is the reason I’m calling, but … ok, now he hung up on me. _Terrific_!”).

The baby chooses that particular moment to put an end to Derek’s barely begun digestion process and as he hangs on to the toilet miserably Derek tells himself to stay calm, stay optimistic.

He doesn’t think Stiles lied to him when he told him his name so there’s got to be an explanation as to why he isn’t showing up anywhere.

Besides, he’s got a little baby to take care of now and any negative thoughts will just have to take a back seat for the duration.

It’ll be ok.

“Damn it, why do you people think I’m calling for sexual favors, is there some sort of weird twisted similarly-named position I didn’t know about? No Sir, _you_ are the pervert, not me, all I want is to find the guy who knocked up my Omega-Brother and wear his balls on a golden chain in triumph! No Sir, I do not need to be saved from eternal damnation … what? I don’t have anger issues, I … yeah no, no one talks about my baby-brother that way, this conversation is _over_! What? No you may _not_ pray for my soul, I sold it on Craigslist!”

“Maybe that’s what we should do,” Cora says gently, pressing a cool washcloth to the back of Derek’s neck as she kneels next to him on the floor.

Derek sits back with a heavy sigh, turns to give her an unhappy glare.

“Pray for my soul? Pretty sure that train left the station 8 weeks ago,” he mutters and Cora shakes her head with an impatient snort.

“No Boo-Boo. I meant put up an ad on Craigslist. Under Missed Connections. Something like: ‘29-Year Old Omega (muscular/scruffy/perpetual sourface) Seeking for Alpha-Baby-Daddy. Might or might not be named Stiles’. That could work. I mean, who knows, maybe he’s looking for you, too.”

“All that’s going to get me is dick-pics. Spelling errors, horrendous grammar, and dick-pics.”

“Is that such a bad thing, necessarily? I hear that pregnant Omegas get really horny halfway in and since you’re too much of a chicken to download porn and act like a prude every-time Laura offers to lend you her hard-drive, it might come in handy to have an extensive collection of dick-pics?”

Derek internally high-fives his baby when his stomach rolls so violently that he barely manages to wrench the toilet-lid open in response to Cora’s well-meaning suggestion.

It’s not an ideal situation.

Not by a long shot.

Not so much because of the social stigma of single Omega-hood, which, frankly, Derek could care less about, but for very basic, biological reasons.

Alpha-Omega contact is important for fetal development, there are hundreds of studies about it, and even though he’s got his sisters and knows they’ll be more than willing to do whatever they can – in a non-creepy way – to make sure the pregnancy goes smoothly, Derek’s heart stutters in his chest when he imagines what he’d have done without them.

It’s not an ideal situation but even though Derek might not even know the _name_ of the Alpha who sired the tiny being inside of him, he does know that he already loves his baby fiercely and would do everything in his power to protect it.

He sighs, wipes his mouth with distaste.

Craigslist-ad it is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the great response so far, guys! Hope you enjoy chapter 2!
> 
> Warning: There is a little bit of non-consensual touching in this chapter. It's very brief and above the belt but I thought I'd point it out regardless, just in case.

_10 Weeks_

“Alright Der-Bear, show us the goods! Where is that belly?”

Blearily, Derek cracks open an eye, only to be met with blonde curls, a teasing grin and worried eyes, Erica’s way of telling him she’s going to make light of the situation but would really appreciate him telling her he’s fine as soon as it’s convenient.

“So there we were, me, looking fresh as a daisy even after a twelve hour flight to Europe and Boyd sleepily pulling out his phone after landing, only to find out you’d gotten yourself into a little bit of a situation. That reminds me, you’re ok with a bunch of lovely French people knowing you’re knocked up, right? I might have screamed through the entire economy class. On accident.”

“Was one of these French people named Stiles by any chance?” Derek replies drily and Erica’s expression grows thunderous immediately, though her touch is gentle when she unceremoniously climbs into bed with him and curls herself around his body protectively.

“I’ll rip off his balls and display them over my fireplace, where they’ll shrivel up and crack like raisins!” she promises heatedly and Boyd shakes his head, his eyes filled with the same concern.

“What Erica means to say is we’re here for you. In whichever capacity you need us.”

“That’s right. Don’t hesitate to ask for _anything_. I know Laura already has a list of things you’ll need but in case she is busy making a weird-cravings run, Boyd gives a mean foot-rub and I’m a pretty skilled lower-back masseuse, so you can always count on us to make you feel better. Additionally, we’ve discussed it and we’d be willing to satisfy your pregnancy-hormone-crazed sex drive when the time comes. There are a couple of very nifty Omega-Threesome tricks we’ve always wanted to try and we’d be more than happy to use you as our guinea pig! Solely for your benefit, obviously.”

Behind her, Boyd smiles fondly with a small shake of his head and Derek grins for the first time in what feels like years.

It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the – mostly earnest – offer and yes, he’s flattered, because Boyd and Erica are gorgeous people, but if he were to hook up with an Omega it would certainly not be with the one he used to share potty-training woes with.

“I would be willing to pimp _her_ out to you,” Boyd mouths, then flashes Derek a toothy grin that pretty much says “There are not enough pregnancy-crazed hormones in the entire world for me to consider it” and Derek relaxes against Erica with a grateful smile, thankful that he has them by his side through all of this.

“Seriously though, where is that belly I was promised?” Erica continues, her fingers already pulling up Derek’s shirt and he shakes his head when she lets out a disgruntled huff at his flat abdomen, the only difference perhaps a tiny loss of muscle tone, since he’s felt too nauseous for his regular workout-routine for two weeks.

“Pathetic, Derek,” Erica declares, then pushes her nose into his bellybutton and downright coos and Derek resigns himself to being her personal teddy bear for the next 30 plus-minus weeks.

Not that he wasn’t before, after all, there’s a reason she’s been calling him Der-Bear ever since a drunken night on the beach during which she discovered he gives good hugs and runs naturally hot, but despite all her protestations to the contrary Erica _does_ have an Omega-nesting instinct and Derek is comfortable enough in their company to indulge her just a little.

Especially when there’s the promise of her admittedly amazing backrubs.

“Are you comfortable Babe?” Boyd asks drily and in her attempt to answer, “Perfect!” Erica accidentally blows a raspberry on Derek’s belly, then starts giggling like a crazy person.

“You too, Derek? Baby going easy on you?”

Derek shrugs, considers.

“For the moment, yeah. If I get nauseous I’ll just throw up on Erica,” he decides and Erica raises her eyebrows in a scarily perfect imitation of Cora, then pats his stomach.

“Alright listen up little one. You better be on your best behavior while you’re baking in the oven or else you and me are going to have a conversation after you’re born. It’s in your best interest, really, you do _not_ want to know how your heroic Papa handled the first oven-related kitchen-fire in your deranged Auntie’s restaurant! You wouldn’t think it’s possible for biscuits to cause a street-wide fire-emergency, but if you’re ever wondering why Laura hasn’t served a single biscuit since 2013, well, there’s your answer. Huh … biscuit. I think that’s what I’ll call you! Biscuit! Hey Biscuit, how’s it hanging in there?”

“You’re not going to name my baby after the most embarrassing moment in my entire life!” Derek protests but Erica shakes her head, looking determined.

“It’s the perfect metaphor, actually! The oven went up in flames because you weren’t paying attention, Laura and Cora completely freaked out because they were convinced you had smoke poisoning when you almost hacked up your lung, and it took us forever to clean up the mess. Something baking in the oven, your Alpha sisters on the prowl, more vomit than anyone really needs, and a big mess to clean up … sound somewhat familiar to your current situation?”

“That’s my baby you’re calling a mess right now,” Derek admonishes her but Erica shakes her head once more, her expression downright gooey.

“Nah, Biscuit’s fine! The mess is your absent Alpha-Baby-Daddy and just so you know, Boyd and I will do whatever it takes to help you track him down. We’ll go to the bar every night if we have to!”

“It’ll be a big sacrifice, obviously, but that’s how much we love you … and Biscuit,” Boyd adds and Derek grins again, feeling just a little bit lighter than before.

In between Laura calling every Scott Delgado in the country, Cora still threatening Craigslist-ads and Boyd and Erica hell-bent on being there for him he thinks he can handle the uncertainty of it all.

At least a little bit.

 

_14 Weeks_

The fact that Derek’s intimate and prolonged relationship with morning sickness has pretty much disappeared by the time he’s safely out of his first trimester is the only reason he doesn’t break down into a pathetic little ball and cry his eyes out when Laura finally manages to track down the last Scott Delgado in the country and grim-facedly reports that Stiles is either a figment of his imagination and the baby a result of an immaculate conception or the Knothead of an Alpha (one of the tamer names she’s assigned to Stiles in the last weeks) not only lied about his own name but also about everyone he’s ever known.

Derek still doesn’t want to believe Stiles lied to him, is much more willing to believe at this point that, since they were both a little drunk, maybe he got the names wrong, but Cora threatens to smack him over the head the one time he voices his thoughts, her eyes glaring Alpha-red as she reminds him that yes, he’s an idiotic Omega who had sloppily-protected knotting-sex with an Alpha, but that it is also drilled into every Alpha from an early age on that you _never_ knot an Omega during a meaningless one-night stand and that Stiles should have at least left his number.

And yes, Derek knows that the only way for an Omega to get pregnant is during a knotting and that he shouldn’t have said yes when Stiles asked, but the sad truth is that it _does_ feel better for both partners than knot-less sex.

The difference is one of the many reasons same-designation pairings are often met with suspicion, though Derek has listened to a tipsy Erica often enough at this point to know that there’s quite a few very enjoyable Omega-Omega sex-tricks that don’t work with an Alpha and thus make society at large massively uncomfortable.

Derek had vigilant parents and went to sex-ed – he knows they both made a stupid decision, but when he thinks about that night – more than he should, probably – he distinctly remembers how much his body was craving it, how much his body was craving _Stiles_ , and now that he knows about the concept of onset-heats, that heat-like burning he’d felt inside his body actually makes sense.

It’s a moot point, of course, and Derek’s pragmatic enough not to dwell on it too much.

He’s pregnant and he’s made the choice to keep his baby, so there’s that.

It doesn’t stop him from lying awake at night worrying about the future, what will happen if he cannot get a hold of Stiles before the birth, but even those thoughts go away for a little while when Doctor McCall places the ultrasound-wand on his stomach during his 14 week-scan, the steady thumping of his baby’s heartbeat comforting and soothing.

“It really looks like a baby and not a blob, holy shit!” Cora contributes to the serene atmosphere and Doctor McCall grins, takes her time to explain every single little detail to Derek’s sister.

Minus the chromosomal gender, since Derek has decided he doesn’t want to know, but Cora’s curiosity is satisfied regardless, her eyes suspiciously moist when the baby starts moving around, almost as if it’s putting on a show.

Derek’s not showing yet, his stomach looking pretty much the same as it normally does, minus the hard ridges of his abs, but knowing that his little baby is dancing up a storm inside of him without anyone being the wiser fascinates him to no end, makes him almost weepy, despite the fact that Laura is the uncontested crier in the family, Alpha stereotypes be damned.

“How are you handling the Alpha-contact situation?” Doctor McCall asks, looking sorry that she has to intrude on his privacy, and Derek stares at her fearfully, his voice shaking a little when he wonders if she can tell the absence of the Alpha-sire on the ultrasound.

Doctor McCall shakes her head immediately, her touch gentle when she squeezes his hand.

“Your baby is perfectly healthy and growing just according to schedule, don’t worry, your sisters’ proximity is a perfectly acceptable substitute for the moment. I hate that I have to ask these questions, your private life is not my business and I don’t want you to think I’m judging, but once you reach your third trimester regular contact with an Alpha will make all of this significantly easier on you and of course I don’t know how close you all are but …”

“If you tell Laura she has to spend the entire day snuggling him she’ll use her vacation time for the next three years. The same goes for me, by the way. We’re willing to do whatever it takes to make sure our brother stays healthy!”

“I was going to say he shouldn’t be left alone for days at a time and maybe you can think about adding a nightly hour of watching television together or maybe playing a card-game to your routine, which will be sufficient proximity, but I’m glad to know you guys are willing to go the extra-mile,” the doctor grins and Cora blushes, mumbles, “That’s not how they portray Alpha-Omega-Pregnancy bonding on my shows,” to Derek’s fond amusement.

“Seriously though, I’m glad to know you have such a strong support-system,” Melissa adds when Cora excuses herself for a moment, her eyes serious as she regards Derek and something in her voice makes the Omega wonder what she has seen, how different his situation is from other unmated and pregnant Omegas she has cared for in the past.

He’s seen Cora’s telenovelas, but he’s always believed that they have moved on from shunning and sending pregnant Omegas away, a practice that was last popular in the 50s.

However, the look on Doctor McCall’s face indicates that he’s one of the lucky ones and Derek doesn’t even want to imagine what his life would be like if he wasn’t.

He’s only half-listening as Doctor McCall dutifully answers all the questions Laura wrote down on a sheet of paper for Cora, since she’s unable to attend the appointment (“It’s quite normal for a first pregnancy to take a while longer to become visible, especially since he’s quite tall and broad to begin with, so no, I’m sure your sister means well but it is absolutely not necessary and also not very healthy to force-feed him cream-cakes”), too focused on watching his baby move around, wondering if it’ll be this active once it’s actually big enough for Derek to feel it kicking, certain that it gets all that energy from its Alpha parent.

It’s a thought he doesn’t quite voice when he watches the ultrasound video with Laura and Cora later that night but he knows they can sense his sadness, both of them snuggled against his side as they distract him with theories about the baby’s chromosomal gender, which Derek, despite his decision not to find out, is pretty sure he already knows.

As he listens to them argue back and forth his mind wanders back to Stiles and he rests his hand on his belly with a sigh, once again silently apologizing to his baby for the entire mess.

“This is amazing, Boo-Boo!” Laura whispers next to him, distracting him from his thoughts and he nods, still in awe himself.

“I wonder if _he’s_ moving around right now,” Cora muses and Laura chuckles, adds, “Nah, _she’s_ probably asleep after that workout for Doc McCall earlier today. Speaking of which, are you _absolutely_ sure she said cream-cakes aren’t necessary? Because I bought you this _amazing_ vanilla-pudding-cherry-pistachio torte from that quaint little bakery run by that curly-haired cutie two blocks from the restaurant and I must insist you eat at least half of it!”

Derek mock-sighs but he doesn’t reject the plate Laura holds out to him with a hopeful smile, aware of how important it is for his big sister to at least fulfill some part of the traditional provider role Stiles vacated when he stumbled out the door.

Granted, they all know that nothing is traditional about the situation and Derek’s spent most of his adult life grim-facedly staring tradition in the face and challenging it with the power of his muscles alone, but so far Laura’s been able to tone down the overprotectiveness to a bearable level and Derek’s secure enough to be able to admit that being pampered by his big sister does make him feel good.

Next to him Cora sneaks a couple of bites when Laura isn’t watching, mouthing, “Sorry Biscuit,” when Derek raises his eyebrows at her with a grin and he smiles at her fondly, shaking his head when she wraps her lips around the fork with an almost soulful expression.

Cora has been crushing on Isaac the Curly Baker - a moniker that Laura came up with the first time she met him – for almost two years now and even though his little Alpha sister is all tough on the outside she gets almost adorably shy when she really likes someone, which is why Derek holds out no hope that Isaac will ever pick up on the fact that Cora’s grim face when she orders a cupcake is actually supposed to mean “I want to smush my face into your curls and rub myself all over you like a cat, please have my babies, I need you like air.”

Thinking of crushes brings him back to Stiles and as he watches his baby move on the television it almost breaks his heart to acknowledge there’s a big chance he or she will never know its Alpha sire.

To acknowledge that even though his baby will grow up to be its own little person he will never know if his or her character traits are unique or if they were passed down from Stiles.

His face must be reflecting his sadness once more because Laura and Cora are suddenly wrapped around him again, their noses gently bumping against his cheeks as they scent him, remind him that he’s got a family who has his back.

He loves them for it, loves them with all his heart, but they can’t quite fill the void that’s growing right alongside his child.

No matter how hard they try.

 

_16 Weeks_

“Have an avocado – also, say ‘cheese’!”

Derek looks at Cora in confusion and Cora groans as she checks the camera, Laura hovering over her shoulder and glaring at him in disapproval.

“Seriously Boo-Boo? Even if Mr. I-Shove-My-Knot-Wherever happens to see that ad he’ll probably think twice before answering if you’re glaring at him with such a sour-face!”

“I’m holding an avocado. Why am I holding an avocado?” Derek replies, ignoring the part about the ad on purpose, and Laura’s expression softens immediately as she wraps one arm around him and pats his belly with the other.

“The internet tells me that baby-girl is about the size of an avocado this week – we thought it would underline the message of the ad since no one will believe there actually is a baby otherwise, Mr. I’m-Too-Cool-To-Start-Showing-Already!” she explains, looking like she wants to be praised for her ingenuity, and for a very brief but poignant moment Derek is tempted to throw the food at her.

“We have to face the facts Boo-Boo. I called every single Scott Delgado alive in this country and even went to look for any Noshikos in this area, but the only one I found is in her late 40s and married to a Ken Yukimura, so she’s out. We’re not going to find him this way, which means we either hope he’ll show up at the club again or we’ll try Craigslist. Alternatively, we wait until Biscuit is born, take her to the police station and have them match her DNA in the hope that Mr. My-Knot-Kills-My-Higher-Brain-Functions has a record, but I’ll be honest with you, if that’s the case he’s never going anywhere near you again. Ever.”

“It won’t come to that because he’ll answer to my awesome Craigslist-ad! Ok, next picture idea. Derek, shirt up!”

“Woof,” Derek says drily, raising his eyebrows when Cora flinches apologetically at her own command tone, however, his little sister holds her ground, gesturing towards the avocado.

“We probably shouldn’t put your face in here, might get uncomfortable if the wrong person reads this. But I still want to get the point across so here’s my idea! It’s great, trust me! Oh, and puff your belly out a bit, will you? Laura’s right, this really isn’t going to work without some extra proof.”

Ten minutes later Derek is tasked with proof-reading the text Cora has written under a picture of his naked chest and stomach – puffed out, as per Cora’s request – his arms folded under his navel with the avocado sitting right in front of where the actual baby is growing and while he has to admit that the picture is somewhat artistic the text is anything but.

 

**“29-Year Old Omega (Muscular/Scruffy/Serious Demeanor) looking for Alpha-Baby-Daddy ‘Stiles’.**

**Dear ‘Stiles’ (or whatever your name is). We had sex 16 weeks ago. You knotted me without enquiring about my heat cycle. I let you and didn’t think about it either. We’re both dumb. Anyway, congrats, our baby is currently the size of an avocado and I’d really like to catch up with you before it reaches melon-proportions.**

**Sincerely, Derek**

**P.S. My Alpha-sisters’ rage grows exponentially to our baby’s development, so hurry the hell up.”**

 

“I like it. Especially that part about my rage,” Laura says in approval and Cora nods in agreement, both of them looking at Derek expectantly.

“Dick-pics. So _many_ dick-pics,” Derek sighs and Cora rolls her eyes, presses ‘post’ with a triumphant, “We’ll see!”

It’s a Sunday and lunch-rush is just beginning so Derek uses the opportunity to disappear back into the kitchen, grateful that he can finally be around food again without his stomach trying to climb out of his body and over multiple burger orders he almost forgets about the ad.

That is, until Cora, who sometimes hangs out with them on Sundays to drink free milkshakes, almost throws over the condiment cart in her haste to shove her laptop in his face, her cheeks glowing with excitement.

“We got an answer!” she all but yells and Derek carefully places down his sharp knife, nods for her to open the message.

“That … is the ugliest dick-pic I’ve ever seen,” he says after a long moment of silence and Cora’s hopeful grin turns to disgust when she turns the computer around to check for herself.

“Dear Derrek – foget abut this Stiles. Me an my big fat throbbing KNOT!!!! wil make u fell soooooooo GOD babez!”

“I _hate_ you!” Derek says with emphasis and Cora beams so hard it looks like it physically pains her, her voice uncharacteristically chipper when she says, “I’m sure the next message won’t be like that, we knew we had to expect at least one of those, right?”

Derek rolls his eyes at her but shrugs, desperately trying to block out any thoughts of big fat throbbing knots with limited success as he turns back to chopping up the hot-dogs for the “Mac’n’Cheese Like Your Mom Made It”-Special.

Over the course of the afternoon Cora’s excitement diminishes with each subsequent message and by the time Laura is ready to close for the evening Boyd and Erica are lounging at the lunch-counter with drinks, smirks (Boyd) and inappropriate commentary (Erica), Laura looks just about ready to wrap Derek up in bubble-wrap and keep him away from Alphas forever, and Cora hectically googles for new anti-virus software, cursing up a storm every time her browser opens to a new porn-site.

When Derek wanders into the dining room area Erica throws her arms around him, looks deep into his eyes and asks, “So, you Knot-Desperate-Scarlet-Omega-Harlet, how’s it going?”, holding his gaze for a second before she bursts into laughter and Derek cocks his head, pretends to think for a moment.

“I think I’m doing a lot better than the guy with the knot-herpes,” he finally decides and Boyd groans into his drink, clearly suffering from unfortunate flashbacks.

“I think my favorite was, ‘Hey Sexy Beast, I want to slather you in hot-sauce, roll you in a tortilla, and eat you like a burrito with baby-filling’. The spelling was perfect and I did like that he tied a little napkin around his knot. Suggests good manners,” Derek’s best friend contributes but Erica shakes her head energetically, thumbing through her phone for the screen-shot.

“Nah, I liked the one that asked if you were available for sexy photo-shoots and maybe some ‘movies’. You keep saying Laura doesn’t pay enough, maybe it’s about time you get a second job,” she decides and Derek grins, still amused at Laura and Cora’s simultaneous, “No way!” screeched in truly impressive decibels.

“I think I liked the ones that just sent their knot. Straight to the point, no questions asked,” Derek says, wrapping one arm around Cora as he sits down on the stool between her and Erica, kisses her cheek when his sister lets out a desperate wail.

“I’m supposed to teach my class about the eco-system of a lake tomorrow! The eco-system, Derek, not dick-pics! How am I supposed to teach when my computer keeps randomly jumping to porn-sites?” she moans and Boyd scratches his chin for a moment before he pulls out his phone, types in a number.

“Hey, Danny?” he says the same moment Cora cries, “No, I don’t need Knot-Inflation-Surgery, damn it, my knot is fine the way it is!” and when his lips twitch Derek can only imagine what the Danny-person is saying in response.

He hangs up a minute later and nods at Cora, his expression stoically soothing.

“One of my work-colleagues is a wizard with technology, if you want I can take your laptop to his house right now and he’ll bring it by your class tomorrow. The school is on his way to work,” he offers, expression bemused when Cora flings her arms around him and sniffles into his broad chest.

“If you weren’t taken I’d marry you right now!” she declares dramatically and Erica wraps herself around Derek, her chin resting in the crook of his neck and her hands patting his belly as she coos, “You do that, I’ll take this one and raise Biscuit as my own!”

“Could you be any more subtle about wanting to get into my pants?” Derek teases her amicably, regretting it a second later when Erica whispers “The threesome offer still stands!” in her huskiest voice and Laura drops a plate in shock.

“So .. no more Craigslist?” Derek asks Cora on the way back home and Cora interlinks their arms with a shake of her head.

“As if some ugly dick pics would cause me to give up that easily! I’ll just re-word it! But not until after that Danny-Person has installed all the virus software there is on my computer. We’ll find Biscuit’s Alpha-Daddy, no matter how many dick-pics I’ll have to sift through!”

She nudges his shoulder with a playful grin and Derek almost forgets that their new and impressive dick-pic and knot-pic collection means he’s still no closer to finding Stiles.

 

_18 Weeks_

“We’re going out tonight and you’re going to come with us! This is non-negotiable, so throw on something nice and off we go!”

Derek barely manages to swing his legs out of the way when Erica unceremoniously drops onto his bed and when she grabs his book – _Oh Alpha Where Art Thou – The Omega’s Guide to Single-Parenting_ – out of his hands he gives her his most terrifying eye-brow game, hoping she’ll take the hint and just leave him alone.

Predictably, she doesn’t.

“Yeah no, Der-Bear, that didn’t work on me _before_ you got all cute and cuddly, so you can just about forget it now,” she says easily, her own eyebrows rising as she reads the book-title, lips curling up in a grimace.

“Really Derek? _Really_? Way to begin your road to parenthood by soaking up all the societal pressure and guilt-tripping our Alphaic system has to offer! Just so you know, I was raised by an Omega-Single-Mom and I can’t say I was harmed by it!”

“I’m not cute and cuddly!” Derek grumbles, letting out a displeased, “Umph” when Erica snuggles into him unceremoniously, her delicate fingers cupping the gentle, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it rounding protruding just above the waistband of his sweatpants.

“That’s what _you_ think,” she grins, flashing him a fond smile before she presses her ear right against his still mostly flat belly, her blonde curls tickling his sensitive skin.

“Erica …” he begins, slightly exasperated, rolling his eyes when she shushes him, wiggling around on his belly as she presses her ear even closer.

“Shhh, Biscuit and me are having a conversation here!” she admonishes him and this time Derek doesn’t even try to suppress his groan.

“For the last time, the only thing you and Laura can hope to hear like this are the angry woes of my bowels because _Biscuit_ has been messing with my digestive system lately. I’m sure you all have better things to do than listening to my body desperately trying to go number two.”

“Gross, Derek. If you weren’t so cute and cuddly right now I’d barf all over you,” Erica says easily, grinning against his skin when Boyd adds, “Pretty sure Derek’s done enough barfing for all of us for a life-time,” as he enters Derek’s room, dressed up to go out just like his fiancé.

“Save me!” Derek says woefully but Boyd shakes his head, his hand briefly resting on Derek’s belly before he sits down on the desk-chair, his eyes fond.

Seeing his friends’ wonder at the slow changes in his body makes Derek imagine what Stiles would look like and the thought is becoming more and more painful now that he’s starting to see the proof that there really is a baby inside of him on an everyday basis.

In a way, Erica reminds him of Stiles, her sassy, sarcastic, yet affectionate personality so similar to the Alpha parent of Derek’s child that he’s almost certain the two would be good friends and that realization is painful as well, an idealized vision of how things should be and a stark reminder of how different they are.

“Tell him how cute and cuddly he is!” Erica says now, interrupting his gloomy thoughts and Boyd gazes at him critically, looking for all intents and purposes like he’s considering his answer carefully.

“I think he could be cuddlier at this stage,” is what Boyd tactfully decides on and Derek lets out a groan when Laura sticks her head into the room and declares, “Amen to that!” while looking deeply pleased.

“Just wait a couple of weeks, Biscuit just has to make it past all of that muscle, but once he’s managed that I’ll draw a big rainbow on that cute big belly and turn you into my own personal Cheer Bear that I’ve always wanted for my Care Bear collection!”

“Going by the eyebrows you’d better make that a storm-cloud for Grumpy Bear,” Cora chimes in, her eyes sparkling with mirth when she appears next to Laura and Derek gives up, heaving a put-upon sigh as he gets up from the bed and makes his way to his closet, critically eyeing his going-out clothes.

“Alright, alright, you win. I’d rather go out with you guys tonight than listen to your plans of how to turn me into a Care Bear for a moment longer!” he mutters, pulling out his favorite shirt and pants from the back of the closet with a shake of his head.

Behind him, his sisters and Erica are engaged in a heated discussion about which Care Bear symbol they should use for the paternity photo session Derek secretly plans to be out of town for, but he’s only half-listening, realizing about halfway into his dressing-endeavor that he might have a bit of a wardrobe crisis.

The olive-green Henley that used to loosely bunch around his hips is now pretty tight, not quite too small yet, so he figures it’ll be ok if he just keeps his jacket on, but definitely highlighting the tiny curve of his belly in a way that doesn’t _quite_ advertise his condition but will definitely cause a few raised eyebrows.

The pants, however, are a different matter altogether and when the room goes quiet Derek’s ears heat up in embarrassment.

“Looks like I’m staying in after all,” he says, trying to shrug away his discomfort and blinking in surprise when Laura seemingly conjures up a pair of pants out of midair, her own ears heating up in embarrassment when she all but throws them at him.

“I got these for you last week at this cute new little store downtown – figured they might come in handy sooner rather than later,” she all but whispers, clearly wondering if she’s finally overstepped and Derek eyes the elastic support-band with a raised eyebrow, not quite certain it’s time to break out the big guns already.

However, the choice between fairly roomy paternity pants in a surprisingly stylish color and skin-tight jeans threatening to explode on him with every move he makes is actually quite easy and after promising his sisters that he’ll be careful (“It’s not like he can get anymore pregnant than he already is, stop being such a worrywart!” “I’m not a wart, I’m gorgeous, and you _know_ what I mean! He smells like an invitation and by the time they’ll realize _why_ he’ll already be chained up in a basement somewhere, being forced to rub lotion into his skin from a bucket that … what? Why are you looking at me like that, it’s a valid concern!”) they set out towards the bars.

Derek is grateful he doesn’t have to ask when Erica heads straight for the bar they went to on the night Derek’s body rented out his reproductive organs without his express consent and he feels only a little bit out of place when Boyd orders for them at the counter and gets him a water instead of his usual whiskey.

Even though it’s not quite October yet it’s starting to get pretty chilly in the evenings and Derek uses it as an excuse to keep his leather-jacket on, for once fully intending to pass as an Alpha as he keeps looking for Stiles, aware that the chances of running into him again are slim to none.

He’s so focused on the bar-entrance that he doesn’t realize he’s being approached until it’s too late and when a nose pushes into his neck he freezes, his Omega instincts screaming, _Careful_ and _Wrong_ _Alpha,_ and Derek’s arms wrap around his middle automatically, his shoulders tense as he turns, takes a step to the side.

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, his voice steel, and the female Alpha turns her face towards him, her blonde locks tickling his skin.

“Hello you precious little thing! What are you doing here all on your own?” she asks and Derek takes another step away from her, his eyes searching for Erica and Boyd because he recognizes the Alpha, and the realization puts his nerves on edge.

She’s never been interested in him but he’s seen her hook up with enough Omegas over the years to know that she’s bad news, and when she leans forward to take another sniff at him Derek realizes what’s happening, curses himself for not having been more cautious.

Unlike Omegas, who have an instinctual need to be close to the young, most Alphas would never dream of touching a pregnant Omega who’s not their mate or close family, the scent wafting from mated, pregnant Omegas simply too intimidating for them to get any actual ideas.

 _Un_ mated pregnant Omegas, however, give off a different scent, their obvious fertility underlined with a challenge, and Derek tenses even more when he remembers his high school biology lessons, recalls that in pre-historic times, back when they were all mostly climbing around trees and grunting at each other, unmated pregnant Omegas were often snatched by unmated Alphas and then mated against their will, over and over until – in most cases – they lost their babies so they could be impregnated with the new Alpha’s seed.

The knowledge that this practice was last acceptable when humans still had 95 percent body-hair doesn’t calm Derek’s nerves and when the Alpha once more invades his space and pushes her hand under his shirt he grabs her hand with vice-like strength, his eyes flashing Omega-Gold as he grits, “Remove your hand now or I’ll remove it from your person entirely!”

In response, the Alpha’s nails dig into his skin uncomfortably as her smile turns downright ugly and Derek’s about to follow through on his promise when the woman is yanked away from him with a roar.

Derek’s balance is a bit off and he stumbles backwards, only to be caught by Boyd, as Erica wedges herself between Derek and the unfamiliar Alpha who’s now yelling at the woman.

Derek can feel his Alpha-authority radiating through the room even without seeing his eyes and he can tell the woman feels it, too, even though her smile is now lethal.

“Back off, Kate, this is your last warning!” the young Alpha hisses and Kate marches towards him, drawls, “Is that so Puppy-Eyes? What if I don’t want to?”

“That’s too bad! Now leave on your own before I’ll throw you out!” the Alpha says coldly and he means it, there’s no question about it.

The Alpha, Kate, snickers, her smirk turning cruel.

“Finally grew a knot, didn’t you? Who knows, maybe if you’d grown it earlier, Allison would still be …”

Derek does not feel particularly sympathetic towards the Alpha when a female Omega, looking to be about the same age as Cora, marches up and throws the entire content of her beer-glass at Kate, her eyes blazing with fury as she gets into her space, their noses almost touching.

“For the record, his _knot_ had nothing to do with it! It’s glorious! Can’t say the same about yours, Allison always felt you were compensating for something by feeling up all these barely legal Omegas who just didn’t know better! Now leave, before I forget that I’m a gentle person with manners!”

Kate opens her mouth, only to clamp it shut when the bouncer finally intervenes, his eyes flashing Alpha-red as he glances towards Derek, sniffs, and then firmly yanks Kate towards the entrance with a low growl, clearly putting two and two together.

The Alpha and Omega stare after her until she’s out the door, their fingers interlinked and their shoulders drawn tight.

When they turn towards Derek they are wearing matching expressions of concern and apology.

“I’m sorry for stepping in like that, Dude, you looked like you could handle it, but I figured it would be better for me to tough it out with her than you since, I’m, you know, not with precious cargo and all that.”

“How can you even tell from over there?” Erica snaps, still shielding Derek with her much smaller body and glaring to make up for the size-difference and the Alpha holds up his hands in surrender, flashes her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, that was rude of me, but my mom does this sort of thing for a living and me and my best friend spent enough afternoons playing in the waiting room when neither of our parents could get sitters to be pretty attuned to Omegas in every stage of pregnancy. I wouldn’t have stepped in otherwise, but I figured you might not want to end up at the station because trust me, Kate would have tried to sue you for all you’re worth the moment you so much as twisted a hair on her body.”

“You figured right. Now who are you, you shaggy-haired hero?”

Erica’s tone is still challenging but she’s relaxed significantly and the Alpha holds out his hand immediately, his smile wide and honest.

“Scott. Scott McCall. The beer-throwing beauty at my side is my wife Kira! Say, have we met before? I don’t quite remember your face, but you smell very familiar.”

Derek’s heart, which had picked up speed at the first Scott, slows back down, his smile just a little bit forced as he pumps Scott’s hand.

“We might have. My OBGYN is Melissa McCall, you might have seen me at the clinic.”

“I might have,” Scott says, sounding only halfway convinced, muttering, “Excuse me,” and stepping to the side when his phone lights up with the words, “Brother From Another Mother.”

“Let me buy you a new beer, least we can do,” Boyd says to Kira, already turning towards the bar, and the Omega looks pleasantly surprised, her nod enthusiastic when she hops up on the barstool next to Derek, her smile almost a little sad as she glances at the sliver of skin that’s been revealed where Kate pulled up his shirt, the way Derek’s hand hasn’t quite left his belly ever since Kate was pulled off of him.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. Scott’s ex-girlfriend is an absolute sweetheart but her family is clinically insane, the whole lot of them. Not the reason they broke up, they just wanted different things and she’s been touring the globe as part of the national and Olympic archery team for years, so it worked out for everyone, but her aunt really tried to drive a wedge between them towards the end and he still sees red whenever he meets her. Literally.”

“It’s fine,” Derek says automatically, even though he can still feel Kate’s nails digging into his skin and Kira shakes her head quickly, her eyes flashing just a little when she watches Derek pull his shirt down.

“No it’s not and if you want to press charges you can definitely list us as witnesses. She’s been getting away with this sort of stuff for years, it’s about time that stops!”

“Laura and Cora are going to _freak_ when they hear about this,” Erica muses and at Kira’s curious glance Derek shrugs, mutters, “My sisters. They’re a bit on the overprotective side. I guess they were right though, I should have just stayed home.”

“Nonsense. If those Alpha-Knotheads can’t handle it, that’s their problem, not yours. Just because you smell really good doesn’t mean you’re an open buffet ready for the sampling. Are you _sure_ we haven’t met though? Scott’s right, you _do_ smell familiar. I own a clothing store for expecting Omegas downtown, maybe you’ve been there in the past week or so?”

“If anything you’ve met my sister. She’s been doing the shopping for me so far,” Derek says, raising his water glass so Kira can clink her beer glass against his and Erica turns towards the other Omega with an interested and – to Derek’s horror – mischievous expression.

“Do you sell actual cool clothes or that flower-crap? Mr. Tiny-Belly over here might still be able to get away with his beloved skin-tight Henleys for _now_ but I _will_ have my round and cuddly Der-Bear soon enough! However, if Laura has her way he’ll run around in floral patterns and pastel colors for the next 20 weeks and we’d all rather avoid that particular sight!”

“Oh heavens no! I actually design them myself and we’ve got a pretty good selection! Granted, we do carry some of the flower stuff, since I can’t expect everyone who comes into the store to be enlightened, but I’ve actually got a really great leather-jacket on sale right now that can be let out easily and is also warm enough for the winter! You guys should come by sometime, I’ll make you a good deal!”

“My wife makes _everyone_ good deals, she’ll never make a profit. The clothes are hella cool though, you should definitely check them out!”

Scott slides into the seat next to Kira, thankfully accepts the beer Erica pushes into his hands and Kira turns towards her husband, voice excited when she asks, “Any luck on the quest?”

Scott shakes his head, sighs.

“Nah, another bust. I swear this is worse than he was with Lydia and I didn’t even think that was possible! I really hope that guy’s worth it!”

Derek raises an eyebrow and Scott shrugs with a small smile, takes a sip of his beer.

“My best friend has been chasing after a guy for months now, keeps insisting he’s the love of his life and that they’re meant for each other, but so far the universe seems to disagree. Danny’s getting really annoyed though, so who knows, maybe he’ll give up soon.”

“I think it’s romantic,” Kira says, winking at Derek, and later, as they exchange phone numbers and part ways with the promise of Derek checking out her collection sooner rather than later, the pregnant Omega can’t help but feel for this Danny, knows all too well how he must be feeling.

As they walk into the cool night his hands, which are wedged into his jacket-pockets, rest against his belly and he rubs it absentmindedly, surprised to notice that it’s slightly rounder than this morning.

He knows what it means, knows that he won’t be able to hide his baby for much longer, and even though he’s really looking forward to feeling those first movements any day now he knows that the larger his belly grows the quicker he’s running out of time to find Stiles.

“Good luck Danny,” he whispers under his breath, looks up at the full moon for good luck.

Karma hasn’t been his best friend this year, and it’s not like he truly believes in that kind of hocus pocus anyways, but if _he’s_ rooting for this unknown Danny to find his mate then maybe, just maybe, the universe will let him find Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three: Erica gets her - very disgruntled - Care Bear (I'm leaning towards Grumpy but I'm open to suggestions!), the only agreement Laura and Cora can reach on Derek's paternity style is that their brother's input is not necessary, Cora adds to her dick-pic colletion, Derek has a hard time getting into the Thanksgiving-spirit, and everyone keeps mentioning this 'Danny'.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support my lovelies! It means a lot!

_20 Weeks_

 

“Ok this makes no sense! Absolutely no sense at all!” Laura says one morning while they are on a supply run at the nearest warehouse store and Derek straightens up from where he’s been bending over the frozen meat section for the past five minutes, raises his eyebrows at her in resignation.

“Problem?” he asks and Laura grimly gestures towards the heavily pregnant Omega who’s comparing prices down the aisle from them, then points at his abdomen accusatorily, the small curve of it currently not even visible under his maroon thumbhole sweater.

“ _What To Expect When Your Omega is Expecting.Com_ says you should be showing right about now! Are you not getting enough food? Are we buying the wrong stuff with the false nutrients? Are Cora and I failing horribly in our roles as providers? Why is …”

“I’m still not giving you Dr. McCall’s private phone-number and no amount of badgering will convince me to do otherwise! Also, can you _stop_ with the belly-talk already, I’m not going to eat my weight in cream-cakes just so you can feel a sense of accomplishment!” Derek says sharply, trying to keep his temper even as his hormones politely remind him that now would be a perfect time for a hissy fit.

It’s been a somewhat challenging week and even though Derek likes to think of himself as a – mostly – relaxed person, the continuing uncertainty regarding the identity and whereabouts of his baby’s Alpha, Cora’s ever-growing dick-pic collection as she keeps searching for Stiles on Craigslist to no avail, and the fact that he’s really starting to feel pregnant now are beginning to take a slight toll on his nerves.

Not that he wasn’t feeling pregnant at the beginning of summer, back when he was memorizing every single porcelain crack in the various toilets of their home, but reaching the halfway mark of his pregnancy has somehow given him a new awareness of everything that’s going on with his body, reminding him just how quickly time is running out.

That and the fact that his baby has obviously decided to get a head-start on training him for the sleepless nights, which, for someone who wasn’t a morning-person to begin with, is quite a bit of an adjustment.

Derek’s always run hot but it’s getting to be ridiculous and sometimes he imagines his baby lounging inside of him like a bald little millionaire in his own personal sauna, splashing around every so often to throw more water at the heater.

He usually has these thoughts during the uncomfortable moments when he wakes up at night bathed in sweat, even though he’s been keeping his window wide open for almost two weeks in a row.

When it’s not hot flashes it’s leg-cramps, and as he turns around to fully face his sister Derek can still feel the after-effects from last night’s mother of a charley horse, which had left him biting his lips against the tears of pain he really didn’t want Laura and Cora to hear.

He’s also pretty sure he’s snored himself awake on three separate occasions and Derek knows he’s being ridiculous about it but he’s always taken pride in being a quiet sleeper … despite looking like a mountain man who can easily saw through the entire rain-forest at night.

In a nutshell, he hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in almost two weeks, has had way too much time to ponder gloomy thoughts while trying to get comfortable in the wee hours of the morning, he’s bone tired, and neither in the mood nor capable of the patience required to weather Laura’s latest bout of panicked provider-insecurity.

His sister actually takes a step back at the unusual aggression in his tone, holds up her hands defensively as her eyes narrow.

“Excuse me? Sense of _accomplishment_? The only thing I’m trying to accomplish here is for you to give birth to a healthy baby and I’m sorry, _Derek_ , but I really don’t see what part of my statement would justify that tone!”

“Is that so? Well, that’s really not surprising to me, since, quite frankly, there are quite a few things you aren’t seeing right now! Mainly, that I’m too tired to listen to you blabber on about my weight for the one-millionth time this month! It’s not your business, ok? It’s mine! In fact, the only person I have to answer to in that regard is Doctor McCall, who, as you very well know, is perfectly fine with how things have been going! I don’t need you guilt-tripping me right now, I’ve got enough on my plate as it is!”

“Guilt-tripping? Who the hell is guilt-tripping anyone?” Laura snaps and Derek throws his hands up in the air in exasperation, one hundred percent done with the conversation.

“I know most Omegas start showing by the time they’re 16 weeks along, even with their first pregnancy! I read the same books you do, Laura; do you really think I haven’t asked myself why this is yet another thing I have to do differently? Why things can never go the normal way for me? The baby is _fine_ and that’s all that matters, so you don’t need to make me feel like I’m starving my own child and …”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Laura interrupts, pushing the shopping cart away and barely avoiding the collapse of a beautifully stacked pyramid of barbecue-sauce jars, her eyes blazing with the faintest hint of Alpha-red as she plants her hands on her hips.

“Who the hell said _anything_ about starving the baby? Of course I know you’re not starving the baby, are you insane? You’re blowing this way out of proportion, like a drama queen who didn’t get his nap-time! And since we’re on the subject of sleeping, I’m sorry that you’re tired, Derek, I really am, but you know what? I’m tired, too! I’m tired of lying awake at night listening to you tossing and turning in your bed because you can’t sleep! I’m tired of listening to Cora rant about fucking dick-pics! I’m tired of worrying about whether or not I’m messing up here, because I’m the Alpha in charge of this situation and I want to be there for you, I do, but I’m not your _Alpha_ and how am I supposed to compensate for _that_? Meanwhile, the one who _should_ be holding you through this is gallivanting around lord knows where, looking for some other gullible Omega to hop on his knot and …”

She trails off immediately, her hands covering her mouth in shock and Derek stares at her for a moment, feeling like she just slapped him across the face.

A part of him has been waiting for it, the inevitable accusation he saw in Laura’s eyes that first night, back when he had told them it didn’t even occur to him to say ‘no’ when a strange Alpha asked to knot him, but now that she’s gone and said it out loud he just feels furious.

“If that’s how you feel,” he gets out through gritted teeth, feeling his blood rush in his ears as hurt turns to anger with lightening speed and Laura reaches out for him, then obviously thinks better of it, her eyes wide as she stares at him unhappily.

“Of course I don’t feel like that, I didn’t mean to say it like that, you know I didn’t! But damn it, Derek, you’ve been walking around the house like a grizzly on a rampage for the past week and …”

“I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in almost a week!” Derek barks, slamming his hand on the ridge of the cooling unit for emphasis.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been the happily glowing pregnancy delight you want me to be, but I’m _tired_ , Laura! I can’t sleep, I can’t get comfortable, and everything I eat tries to burn its way back up through my esophagus! How the hell am I supposed to gain weight when eating results in debilitating pain every time I try to lie down, huh? I _hate_ this! I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t …”

Derek breaks off abruptly, his eyes widening as his hands fly to his stomach, the fury on his face giving way to shock.

When the sensation inside his belly returns he gasps loudly, doubles over a little at the strange feeling, heightened by his still agitated state.

He can barely whisper, “Laura!” before his sister’s hands are plastered next to his, her eyes absolutely frantic and flashing in her panic as she gulps in the air around him, checking his scent for signs of distress.

There’s the sound of rolling jars in the background, as Laura has finally managed to knock over the pyramid next to their cart in her panic, but neither of them cares about that for now, both of them breathing rapidly, though for very different reasons.

“Derek? Derek! What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Talk to me, what’s happening? Is it the baby? Do you think you’re bleeding? _Help_! We need help over here, my brother …”

“Laura!” Derek whispers again, experiencing yet another rapid change of emotions within the past five minutes as he makes a grab for her hands, pushes them to the source of the movement he now realizes is his baby.

“What’s wrong Boo-Boo? Talk to me, _please_!” Laura whispers back, her eyes wide with fear and Derek smiles so widely it almost hurts, pushes her hands tighter against his belly even though he knows it’ll probably be another couple of weeks until she can feel it from the outside.

“Laura … it’s moving! My baby is moving!” he tells her, not even trying to hold back his tears when they start rolling down his cheeks, all the anger he’d been feeling just seconds earlier replaced with a joy so deep and pure he has no hope to contain it.

“ _What_?” Laura breathes, staring at their hands like she’s never seen them before and Derek laughs through his tears, whispers, “I’m having a baby! This is my baby!” over and over, feeling almost unsteady on his feet as another gentle nudging deep inside of him hits him with a feeling of love that completely knocks the breath out of him, forces him to sit down as he starts sobbing like a baby, too caught up in this whirlwind of emotion to bother with feeling embarrassed about it.

Derek knows what love is, experiences it almost daily courtesy of his sisters, Boyd, and Erica.

He knows that love can be a comfort and he knows that love can hurt, is reminded of it every time he visits his parent’s grave, but he’s never known a love as completely and utterly terrifying as the one that floods through him at the tangible proof that he’s carrying a little human being inside of him, nurturing it and protecting it against the world even now.

Derek’s read the books and seen the telenovelas; he knows that everyone describes the moment they first held their baby in their arms as the one where they finally understood what real love is, but now, sitting on the floor of the frozen meat section at Costco and cradling his belly, with a crying Laura squatting in front of him and the scent of barbecue sauce in the air, Derek knows he’s already found the true meaning of love.

Knows that even though he can’t wait to finally see his little baby and hold it in his arms, the experience will only underline the powerful emotion he’s experiencing right now.

The baby nudges him again, as if to make sure he’s ok, and Derek knows that he would do everything for the tiny being safely nestled inside; knows that he would protect his baby with his life, and it seems so natural, so completely reasonable to him that he can’t help but chuckle, overwhelmed with the intensity of it all.

“I’m going to be a _father_ ,” he tells Laura, smiling through his tears at the realization and Laura wraps her arms around him, her voice choked when she replies, “You’ll be an amazing Papa, Boo-Boo! The best of them all!”

Then they’re both sobbing again, holding on to each other like lifelines as the tension and anxiety of the last months flow out of them, giving in to the urge to have a good cry the way Derek knows they should have done forever ago.

Eventually, a throat is cleared above them, and when Derek looks up he finds himself face-to-face with a very confused though not overly alarmed looking Costco’ manager, his name-tag identifying him as B. Finstock.

“Everything alright down there?” he asks, cocking his head curiously and Laura nods emphatically, her voice still brittle when she croaks, “My brother is having a baby!” and Derek ads, “My baby is moving!” in an equally destroyed voice, his brain-to-mouth filter still hopelessly offline.

“Congratulations! Wait, you’re not planning to have that baby right here in my frozen meat section, are you? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it would make for some terrific headlines, but I _really_ don’t want to have to scrub that floor with my tooth-brush just because that Harris-idiot from the Health Department has a bunch of strange fetishes!”

“Tempting as it may be I think I’ll wait another 20 weeks or so,” Derek says, clearing his throat as he lets Laura pull him up and Finstock lets out a loud sigh of relief, his gaze critical as he looks them over.

“20 weeks, huh? Well, that explains the crying, my Omega tends to get downright mental around the halfway point, too. Not that he’s a paragon of sanity, usually, but something about baby-brain just makes him … uh … extra-special. Wow, man, are your eyes always that puffy? I mean, you’ve just saved me today’s cleaning with that river of tears, so it might be because of that, but are you getting enough sleep? Not that I’m trying to intrude or anything, but I’ve got five kids at home and two more on the way, I’m essentially your Yoda for any and all Omega-pregnancy-discomfort-remedies.”

“Yes, please!” Laura says, emphatically, and when they leave the store an hour later Derek is the proud owner of not one but _two_ pregnancy pillows (“Just in case you break the first one, Boo-Boo, I mean, you’ve broken five stress-toys already, who knows what you can do in a fit of hormonal pregnancy angst!”).

Despite his protestations Laura drops him off at the house instead of taking him to work with her, telling him in no uncertain terms that he should get some sleep and Derek isn’t sure whether it’s the magical abilities of the pillow or the fact that he’s almost dead on his feet after all that excitement, but he isn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth, either, sleeping blissfully until almost 4 PM.

When he wakes up Laura is sitting on a chair next to his bed, her expression hesitant and when Derek nods she climbs in next to him, wraps her arm across his chest and hooks her chin over his shoulder, cuddling him like she used to do when he was little.

“I thought we’re still open?” Derek yawns but Laura shakes her head, mutters, “Nah, I had more important things to do. I have to apologize to my little brother, you know.”

Derek waits, patiently, and after a while Laura speaks again, sounding firm but gentle.

“I’m sorry for that thing I said at the store. It was ugly and I was angry at you. That’s no excuse, but I truly hope you know that I don’t think you’re a gullible idiot. You’re a grown man and you made a grown-up choice … it just wasn’t a very well thought-through one. I think we can all agree that we’d wish for the circumstances to be different, but what really matters is the little one right in here. I know I speak for Cora, too, when I say that we’re going to love your baby so freaking much, which means that the question of how it got here is really inconsequential at the end of the day. And we just want the two of you to be happy and healthy always. I know you know what’s best for your body and I’m really not trying to make you feel guilty, but I’m your big sister and I love you and I’m afraid I’m never going to be able to stop worrying about you.”

“I’m sorry, too. I over-reacted,” Derek says earnestly, turning to lie on his back so he can wrap an arm around his sister properly, nuzzling against her brown hair with a contented rumble in his chest.

“I was bone-tired and feeling cranky and I think I was looking for a reason to let off some steam. I said a bunch of things I didn’t mean and I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I know I’m lucky to have you guys, I can’t even imagine how lonely I’d be otherwise. The fact that my baby is happy and healthy has a lot to do with you and Cora stepping in for Stiles and I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“We’re family, no one needs to repay anyone. And if you really want to give me something in return, cuddle-rights with Biscuit will absolutely suffice,” Laura says automatically, her gaze very soft when she looks at his belly, the soft rounding a little more visible now that he’s only wearing a thin sleeping-shirt.

“Do you think she’ll move again today?” she asks, sounding almost reverent, and Derek smiles, grasps her hand and places it below his navel.

“It’s moving right now, actually,” he tells her, still awed by the sensation, and Laura holds her breath, her eyes wide in wonder even though there’s nothing to feel yet.

“Who’s moving? Biscuit’s moving? Why am the last to hear about this? I swear, no one ever tells me anything! And why was I not invited to the snuggle party? Have I not weathered the storm of dick-pics for you? This is how you repay me – it’s an outrage!”

Derek lets out an umph-sound when Cora wedges herself in between his other side and the wall, her eyes sparkling with delight as she places her hand on his stomach, gently pushes down in search of the movement.

“Come on little man, kick a little stronger for Auntie Cora!” she coaxes, accidentally puts a lot more pressure on his bladder than necessary in her excitement, and even though Derek has to excuse himself after a few minutes to take care of his new and improved bladder-relief urges he wouldn’t want to miss this bonding moment for the world.

He just really wishes it included Stiles.

_22 Weeks_

 

“Oh my god, Boo-Boo, there she is! _Finally_! Cora, come look!”

Derek is anything but a morning person, usually can’t function as a socially capable human being until well into his third cup of coffee – one of the biggest adjustments he’s had to make so far – but even though he just shuffled out of bed he can’t quite stay grumpy at the look of joy spreading all over Laura’s face when she stares at his belly like it’s a treasure chest filled with all of her desires.

“I know you’re saying this to mock me, but it _is_ a treasure chest! That’s my niece in there, after all!” Laura comments on his apparently turned-off brain-to-mouth filter and when Cora enters the kitchen and downright squeals Derek leans back with a fond smile, watches his sisters coo at his still small-ish but definitely round belly like two crazy people.

“He’s getting big now, Derek! Won’t be long until we’ll feel him say hi, too!” Cora announces and as if to prove her point the baby kicks, not too far from where Cora’s hand is resting against his side.

She doesn’t look like she noticed and Derek holds his tongue, reasonably sure that it’ll be only days now before his sisters can say hi properly, attach themselves to his stomach alongside Erica, and never leave him alone ever again.

Five hours later he’s not only reasonably sure but certain, as evidenced by the fact that Laura has stopped by the kitchen to ‘see how it’s going’ about thirty times more often than she normally does, not leaving before a belly-pat each and every time, and now Erica’s literally plastered to his side, shadowed by Boyd, who’s working on a flyer for a job opening.

Their restaurant is small and although they are busy for most of the day there usually aren’t ever enough people inside to really need more servers than Laura, but his big sister is convinced that, as his pregnancy progresses, Derek’s going to need help and she needs to be free to leave at a moment’s notice should he go into early labor.

Now that he finally has a belly for his sisters to coo over (“Don’t judge me, but I need you to hold the phone to your belly right now so I can say hi to my favorite little boy before my lunch-break ends! Hey little man, Auntie Cora cannot _wait_ to finally get to hold you and squish your chubby cheeks! I’ll just want to eat you, you’re going to be so darn cute! Auntie Cora loves you so much, I’ll buy you _all_ the presents your Papa won’t get you! I’m going to be the favorite auntie, just you see! My Snuggle-Buns! Hold on a second, why are you laughing? You’re swimming in water, you shouldn’t … ah. Low, Boo-Boo, that was low! Also, you heard _nothing_!”) Laura seems to be newly determined to hire someone and although Derek’s not quite looking forward to training a kitchen-assistant he knows it’ll be inevitable after a certain point.

“So, what else is new? You know, other than that cute belly, the manifestation of my Care Bear plans, and the realization that you are replaceable here after all?”

They are standing outside for a little fresh-air break, Derek more or less voluntarily bundled up under Boyd’s large winter-coat to protect him against the arctic temperatures a late California October is apparently known for and Erica is staring at him with such a goopey expression Derek’s worried her face is going to melt off any second.

“Other than Cora joining the dark side and condemning me to living with _two_ baby-gaga Alphas?” Derek asks and they all chuckle, each of them imagining Cora’s mortification when she realized she had been caught.

“Nothing much, really. Cora posted a new Craigslist ad last night and this morning she had 103 unread messages in her spam folder. Ever since your friend Danny used his technology-wizardry to teach her mailbox how to detect dick and knot-pics and automatically send them to spam, her computer has been virus-free but we’re still not closer to finding Stiles. In other news, I’m thinking about going over to Isaac’s bakery to get a vanilla-custard donut, which I then plan to fry and eat with a side of ketchup.”

“A classic boy-craving, I _told_ you Biscuit has a penis!” Erica decides and when Derek raises his eyebrow she nudges Boyd, nods towards Derek expectantly.

“Huh? Oh yeah, right, _classic_. Pretty sure Doc McCall would kick your hiney for that one though. Empty calories _and_ deep fried fat? You might be better off with pickles, honestly.”

“Are we out again? Never fear, I’ll buy some on my way home!” Laura interrupts, stepping outside and wrapping her arm around Derek’s middle for her quarter-hourly check that his belly is still there.

She also tactfully refrains from mentioning the big pickle debacle from earlier that week, when Derek had polished off three large jars without even realizing it, then found himself without any pickles left for their burger-special ‘Pickle Me This!’ and burst into tears.

Laura had promptly changed the sign to “Pickle Me This – Bazinga!” and then sent Derek home, where he had spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch in front of the television with Cora’s shows, a warm water bottle to soothe his somewhat inevitable stomach ache, and a feeling of grand stupidity.

“No pickles. Ever again,” Derek says quickly and Laura snorts, then turns towards Boyd.

“So, how’s it coming?”

Boyd scratches his ear.

“They’re almost done. Did you want me to include ‘Omegas Only’ on the flyer or did you want to talk to them about that during the interview? I have to tell you though, I’m still not sure that’s legal.”

“The last unmated Alpha I left alone with an unmated Omega in my kitchen violated ten different health codes and then kidnapped him to Vegas. You bet your perky behind I’m not going to hire some rowdy Alpha while Derek smells like Omega-Delight! Yes I know you can defend yourself, Boo-Boo, don’t glare at me like that, it’s more for my own peace of mind really.”

“You do smell delightful,” Erica decides, ending the long-standing argument for the moment and later that evening Laura continues the discussion with Cora, the latter still sounding a little miffed because of her phone-blunder.

“We definitely can’t put it on the flyer, they could sue us if they really wanted to. Let’s hope that we’re going to be swimming in Omega-applications regardless, because if we hire an Alpha we need to install security cameras everywhere, just so we know whether or not I have to crush their knots into powder if they so much as sniff in Derek’s direction,” Derek’s little sister says, glancing over towards where he is dozing on the couch.

She can pretend to be tough all she wants, Derek loves his overprotective baby-sister, awkward baby-talk and all.

Therefore, he dutifully pretends to be asleep when Cora tip-toes over and hovers over his belly, whispering, “Love you Snuggle-Buns!” before she kisses Derek’s forehead, her soft, “You too, Boo-Boo,” a clear indication that he’s not fooling her for even a second.

In all honesty, he’d be disappointed if he had.

 

_24 Weeks_

 

Two weeks later Laura has a meeting with some insurance people and therefore Cora takes off work to accompany Derek to his Glucose Tolerance Test, despite his heated protestations that she shouldn’t waste her vacation days on this.

“I googled Boo-Boo, there’s a good chance you’re headed for another Barfnado and I really don’t want you to be alone when it hits,” she brushes off his concerns and Derek rolls his eyes, touched by her concern but pretty sure it’s unnecessary, given the fact that the first Glucose test didn’t even make him nauseous.

He’s a little concerned but not overly nervous about having to go in for the GTT, since Doc McCall reassured him that most Omegas who test positive on the first screening turn out not to have gestational diabetes after all, and when he downs the test he smiles at his nervous sister encouragingly, even holds up his thumb to make her smile.

An hour later Derek is curled up on the couch in the waiting room, telling himself stubbornly that throwing up is going to render the entire test moot and he’ll have to do it again and Cora is sitting on the floor in front of him, stroking his hair soothingly as they wait for the test to be done.

“Distract me,” he begs her, then clamps his mouth shut when he feels his stomach rolling and Cora glances at him unhappily for a moment before her eyes light up.

“I talked to Isaac yesterday! It was in his coffee shop and I was ordering something, but we actually made small talk! God, Derek, he smells so good, it’s like he’s just ripe and ready for me to slather him up in oil, massage his buttocks, and then fold him over the table like a pretzel!”

“I think they’re actually called Bretzel,” Derek contributes weakly and Cora rolls her eyes.

“Pretzel, bretzel, I don’t care, I’ll bretzel the heck out of him one day. I have a ten year plan, Derek, and it will not fail!”

“If he smells that good to another Alpha you might want to speed that plan up a bit. Just a suggestion,” Derek says and Cora shakes her head emphatically, clucks her tongue.

“While I’m sure Snuggle-Buns appreciates the fact that you seem to have slept through most of your biology class on sex-education, I teach this stuff for a living and I’m pretty sure he only smells like that to me. There’s Omega-smell and there’s _Omega_ -smell and I’ve never been so drawn to an Omega before Isaac. You know I don’t believe in that One-True-Soulmate-To-Bind-Them-All-Yada-Yada-Yada Crap, but I do know for a fact that the more suitable an Alpha-Omega pairing is for each other, the stronger their scent-attraction is.

It’s not necessarily romantic, I mean, the main reason for scent-attraction is nature’s way of making sure we find the ideal mate for the procreation of strong, healthy offspring, but studies have shown that Alpha-Omega pairings who cite smell as their first indication of attraction actually have longer and happier relationships than those who went by looks alone. Isaac is adorable, sure, but his scent makes me feel warm, happy, and at home, and I’m pretty sure those emotions are helpful when you’re trying to build a life together. Isaac smells like he belongs to me. I hate that it makes me so nervous I can barely even speak to the guy.”

“Maybe that’s his problem, too? Sensing the potential for that kind of commitment must be intimidating,” Derek says, looking at her with concern, and Cora sighs, looking so unhappy that his heartache for her briefly overpowers the nausea.

“I hate it, Derek! I know I try to act like I can’t be bothered, but what if he doesn’t feel the same way I do? Alphas tend to feel these kind of things a bit stronger than Omegas, what if it’s so subtle for him that he never picks up on it?”

“Pretty sure Omegas can feel that kind of attraction, too. Quite strongly, in fact,” Derek says softly, resting his hand against his belly with a sigh and Cora’s eyes soften, her fingers warm when she starts drawing circles around his belly-button.

“Stiles,” she says, not a question but a fact, and it’s the first time she’s referred to him without the addition of a contemptuous “Knothead”, telling Derek she gets it.

“I’ve never let a one-night stand knot me before. Ever. I’m not dumb, I knew the risks, but when he asked it just felt so right that I didn’t even think. I just needed him so much and I’ve never felt like that before, not even back when Paige used to help me through my first heats. I _miss_ him, Cora! And that doesn’t even make _sense_ , because I don’t know the slightest thing about him, other than a name that’s obviously not even real! But when I close my eyes I see the way he looked at me and sometimes when I think about him it feels as if my body is literally starving for him. At first I thought the pregnancy hormones were turning me into a total nut-job, but I don’t think that’s what this is. I know the chances of ever finding him again are slim to none at this point, but how am I ever supposed to move on from this?”

“Oh Derek,” Cora sighs, gently nudging him to move to the side so she can sit on the edge of the couch, one hand resting on his belly and the other grasping his hand.

“Why don’t you talk about these things? Why do you keep them all bottled up so they can eat you from the inside, when you have us to share the burden? We wondered, you know. Laura told me about the argument you had last month, and I think she’s still feeling guilty about it, especially since we both knew there had to be at least some kind of special circumstances that night. We know you Boo-Boo, we never thought you just got careless all of a sudden. Onset-heats are one thing, but being in the presence of an Alpha who’s so _right_ for you if you’ve never felt that sort of thing before? No wonder you got stupid!”

“Not like it changes anything,” Derek mutters, closing his eyes in defeat and opening them again when Cora lets out a disgruntled sound, her grip on his hand tightening.

“Listen to me, Boo-Boo. It might not change the situation you’re in right now, but this I can almost guarantee you; if the two of you really share the kind of attraction I feel towards Isaac, that Stiles of yours is out there looking for you right now.”

She pauses, strokes his belly thoughtfully.

“You know how they say that some Alphas can tell whether their Omega conceived during a heat the very morning after? It’s kind of ambiguous, obviously, and most Alphas don’t even recognize it for what it is, but it’s real and it happens more often than you’d think. Do you remember Mom talking about how she knew they were going to have me literally from the moment I came into existence? She’d felt it before with Laura, but she didn’t quite understand why she suddenly needed to be close to Dad all the time. With you she wasn’t quite sure yet, though she made Dad take the test way earlier than most Omegas would have because she couldn’t shake that feeling, and when I came along she recognized the sensation and knew immediately. If Stiles felt drawn to you the way you are still drawn to him then trust me; there’s an Alpha out there who can’t get you out of his mind and is probably losing sleep at night because all of his instincts are telling him to be near you. Stiles might not know about Snuggle-Buns, but somewhere deep known the Alpha in him _knows_ , and he’s probably as miserable as you are right now.”

She sighs, the pain in her eyes replaced by affection.

“Laura doesn’t want to acknowledge the possibility, obviously. I think it’s easier for her to pretend that Stiles is just a random Alpha who managed to sweet-talk you at a very receptive point of your cycle and not someone with mating potential, because that way she can tell herself you’re not hurting as deeply as you are. She’s never felt this kind of attraction before herself, but she’s seen me pine for Isaac for years and I haven’t even _touched_ him yet. You’re carrying that Alpha’s _baby_ , and whatever that means for the state of your emotions is something that gives Laura sleepless nights because she can’t _fix_ it. Why do you think she frets so much about every tiny little thing? Almost all of them are problems that, ultimately, she can find a solution for. We love you Boo-Boo and we want you to be happy. We’re just terrified that you won’t be.”

Derek opens his mouth, ready to respond – though he’s not quite sure how he’s supposed to do anything but tell her just how much he loves both of them – when the baby decides to join the conversation, tiny limbs happily twitching inside of him and kicking straight to where Cora’s hand is still resting.

Cora gasps, her eyes blown wide-open and when she smiles at him teary-eyed Derek silently promises the baby an awesome Christmas gift somewhere down the line, when it’s old enough to understand the significance of saying hi to Aunt Cora in that particular moment.

“How couldn’t I be happy Cora? At the end of the day, I still have my family,” Derek says gently and the baby kicks again, proudly asserts that it’s part of aforementioned family.

“ _Hi_!” Cora breathes, big tears rolling down her cheeks now and for the second time in a little over a month Derek finds himself holding on to a crying sister, the relief of anxiety just as necessary and important as the moment he shared with Laura.

Thanks to medical advances the test results take only a fraction of the actual test duration and when Derek leaves the clinic feeling significantly lighter than he did before it’s only partly because of his perfect bill of health.

_26 Weeks_

 

Derek loves his sisters.

Really, he does.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself as he sinks down onto the dressing-room couch with a heavy sigh, finally able to rest his swollen feet that he can no longer quite see.

Biscuit is going through a growth-spurt and as much as Derek loves knowing his little one is healthy and growing according to schedule he’s also a little annoyed at the fact that he’s rapidly outgrown just about anything he owns in the past two weeks.

After keeping him in a false sense of security for more than half of the pregnancy his body is apparently trying to make up for the time that was lost, merrily expanding on an almost daily basis now, and Derek wants to send thank-yous to every deity listening that he inherited his Omega father’s skin, which had been smooth and stretch-mark free even after three pregnancies, one of which included Cora, who came in a package deal with unholy water-retention.

“I’ll never get why so many Omegas are so sensitive about that! They aren’t stretch marks, they are warrior-stripes and I personally find them to be an extremely appealing sign of strength! I’d be honored to wake up next to the hero or heroine who carried my children and wears the battle-scars to prove it every morning!” Laura says whenever she catches him frown at his skin in the mirror and Derek just shrugs, keeps his gloomy thoughts to himself.

It’s not that he’s vain, per se, and when he’s trying to roll himself out of bed in the morning the thought of ever engaging in activities that can cause pregnancy again seems extremely far-fetched, but Derek _does_ want to have sex again at some point in the future and he’s worried enough as it is that his baby is going to be a deal-breaker for anything serious.

He’d rather not have to worry about his skin being a deal-breaker, too, thank you very much, despite Laura’s protestations that an Alpha who throws a tantrum about something like that should be kicked to the curb.

Then again, if his baby continues to grow at this rate Derek figures that not even his genes will save him, bringing him back to the task at hand – purchasing clothes that don’t require the shirt-equivalent of a shoehorn to slip into.

The paternity pants Laura got him weeks ago are still working just fine, though he could probably use a new pair at some point, but he’s reached the stage of pregnancy where not even his roomiest sweaters cover his belly anymore, and when Laura and Cora decided to spend their monthly Sibling-Saturday by going paternity-clothes shopping Derek had quickly run out of actual arguments.

It’s “Whoops, We Aren’t Going Shopping Until the New Month, Have Soup Instead,”-Day at the restaurant and since she still hasn’t hired anyone Laura’s paying two of Cora’s high schoolers to man the fort and serve soup from the barrel-sized pot that Derek prepared for the afternoon, partly as a favor to Cora, who’s worried that these particular two lack motivation, and partly because she didn’t want to miss an opportunity to torment Derek.

At least that’s how he sees it.

Besides, he’d been meaning to pay Kira a visit, and when they walked through the door the quirky Omega had lit up like a Christmas tree, so Derek figures they made the right choice.

He’s still resting his feet when Kira sneaks a mug of tea into the dressing room, whispers, “Shhh,” and then mutters, “Well _that_ made sense,” as she seems to remember she’s the one who owns _McCall’s Ma & Pa-Ternity_.

“I was going to use my maiden name, but Scott’s mom is so famous in the community, we figured that might attract more customers,” she’d said earlier, back when Derek still thought his opinion on how he’s supposed to dress for the rest of his pregnancy carries any weight.

It was a glorious one minute and twenty seconds of blissful ignorance indeed.

“I think your sisters can’t quite agree on the style they want you to have – rugged biker-chique or homely Omega in the kitchen,” Kira says cheerfully and Derek snorts, accepting the tea gratefully.

“I hope you have a customer restroom, this won’t stay in for too long,” he warns her matter-of-factly and Kira grins, gestures to her left as she says, “Of course, what kind of operation do you think I run here?”

“The kind that sells pregnancy-dresses that look suspiciously like a Dominatrix outfit?” Derek teases her and even though the tips of her ears blush Kira holds her ground, her expression a little miffed.

“That’s what Scott’s best friend said! Damn it, I hate it when he’s right like that! He’s going to be insufferable for weeks! For the record, that wasn’t the inspiration!” she mutters, cocking her head in contemplation when Cora sticks her own head inside the dressing room cabin to hand Derek a new outfit and declares, “I don’t know, you might have stumbled upon a new market there. People in the fetish-community get pregnant, too, so you should think about direct advertising! For the record, Derek, this one is all on Laura and I wash my hands off it,” her grin just a little cocky before she disappears again.

“Fetish-inspired maternity and paternity clothing? Huh. Do you think that could be a thing?” Kira asks and Derek shrugs, his attention drawn to the garish monstrosity he’s currently holding in his hands.

“What was the inspiration for _this_? _Hello Kitty_ threw up all over Van Gogh’s Sunflowers?”

Kira laughs out loud, her expression sympathetic when Derek pulls on the shirt and scowls at his reflection.

“Actually, I was trying to come up with the ugliest flower-pattern possible, you know, to push people who’d come into the store for that kind of stuff more towards my modern take on how a pregnant Omega should dress. Funnily enough that particular design turned out to be hugely popular. I can’t quite tell if the people who buy it have a great sense of irony or incredibly bad taste, but I’ve actually had to restock it four times. My heart dies a little every-time I fill out that order-form.”

“Every-time someone wears this an actual cat falls out of a tree,” Derek agrees, groaning when Laura sticks her head inside the stall and coos ridiculously.

“What does your Alpha like? I mean, not that that’s supposed to mean anything, obviously, but I do hang out with a lot of pregnant Omegas around here and I hear that heightened Omega sex drives and the right visual stimulation can lead to some rather glorious orgasms,” Kira asks once Laura’s safely out of earshot and Derek’s amusement evaporates like a drop of water pathetically hissing for its life as it disappears over a heated brick.

He doesn’t quite know what his face does, but the way Kira pales is answer enough.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t want to … it’s not my business, forget I asked. Wow, look, that pattern looks nice, right? …. Sorry, I’m making this worse, aren’t I?”

“It’s ok. I need to get used to these kinds of questions. The Alpha is no longer in the picture,” Derek replies, sounding lonely even to his own ears and now Kira looks so distressed that he forces himself to smile as brightly as he can, places his hand on her shoulder for comfort.

“I’m sorry I assumed, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s fine,” Derek says, smiling faintly this time.

It’s not fine, not really, but he knows she didn’t mean to offend him and he meant it when he said he needed to get used to these kinds of questions.

Kira still looks like she’s attending her own wake and Derek hefts himself up with a little grunt, extends his arm to her and nods towards the dressing room exit.

“Should we go and stop Laura before she falls in love with a pink flower dress and tries to convince me I should break down the chromosomal gender-barrier single-handedly? Not that I couldn’t rock a pink dress, mind you, but I’ve always looked ridiculous in flower-patterns.”

“I don’t know. Your legs might be a bit on the hairy side for dresses. Unless that’s another statement you intend to make?”

Derek’s still feeling a little sad, but the sight of a very startled and guilty looking Laura quickly hiding a teal dress behind her back that very expressly states ‘For Her’ but – Derek is man enough to admit it – has an absolutely adorable, hand-stitched silver butterfly spreading its wings over where the belly would be definitely heightens his spirits.

“Nightgown? Men wear these, too” she tries, and Derek very deliberately selects a Henley in the same color from the ‘For Him’ rack, coos, “My precious!” in a terrible falsetto and hugs it to his chest like a long-lost friend.

“Just so you know, pregnancy is the time to experiment with fashion, because no matter how hideous you look, people will let you get away with it! Unless you’re Jackson from ‘Keeping Up with the Whittemores’, that one just can’t catch a break for his style-choices. By the way, Kira, I was going to ask, do you happen to know anyone looking for a job in the restaurant business? We’ve still got two openings!”

Kira scrunches up her forehead in thought, startled out of her reverie when her phone rings, and Derek can see the name ‘Stilinski’ flashing on her display before he remembers his manners and looks away.

“Hey, any luck?” she greets, letting out a disappointed sigh when the answer is clearly negative.

“You’re running out of Burger places to try, are we sure he didn’t mean a fast-food chain? Or maybe a Sushi-place? Huh? Of course, these fusion places are spreading like wildfire. All I’m saying is keep an open mind! I’m sorry though, I was crossing all my fingers and toes for you! Listen, I have company right now but if you want you can come over tonight. Scott’s been missing you, even though he won’t admit it. Of course he’s been crying himself to sleep like a baby, what do you think? Alright, see you soon Mieczslaw! You bet that’s what I’m going to call you from now on, now that I finally mastered the pronunciation! Oh and tell Danny to get his butt over to our place as well, he needs to get out in the real world again!”

She hangs up, smiles at them apologetically, and even though Derek really wants to know if this Danny found his mate yet he refrains from asking, figures it would probably be rude and impolite.

“Back to your question, I actually do know two guys looking for a job right now. Liam and Mason. I don’t know if they’ll be any good at it, but I can guarantee you they’ll try their best. They are saving up for college right now though, so I don’t know how long they’ll be available,” she says and Laura nods eagerly, holds out her phone for the contact information.

“If they can promise me until summer that’s completely fine with me. Derek’s going to stay home with Biscuit for half a year and I really need a cook, there’s no way around it.”

“I’ll tell them to give you a call tonight!” Kira promises, looking relieved to be helpful after her blunder in the dressing room.

“You really _do_ smell familiar, I’m sure we’ve met before!” she whispers in Derek’s ear when they hug good-bye and because Derek’s still feeling a bit baffled over the dimensions of the ‘friendship-discount’ he figures it wouldn’t be polite to tell her she’s imagining things.

 

_28 Weeks_

 

Derek would never admit it to Laura but she’s been right all along – having Liam around in the kitchen is a godsend.

His baby might only be the size of an eggplant, but his belly certainly isn’t and it’s tiring, especially when his job demands him to be on his feet at all hours of the day.

Upon first meeting him, Laura had been hesitant to hire the young Alpha for the kitchen position, leaning more towards partnering him with Mason, a friendly but slightly over-eager Omega, but Liam wins her over almost without any effort by being utterly terrified of Derek from the moment he first lays eyes on his belly.

When he isn’t treating him like he’s a raw egg ready to crack at any moment Liam is literally jumping into action whenever Derek just glances at something, obviously convinced that any sort of physical activity would result in him going into premature labor.

The week before Thanksgiving is usually their busiest, ever since Laura added a Thanksgiving-meal delivery service catering to college students to the menu, but this Thanksgiving Derek finds himself doing the absolute bare minimum of nothing, feeling just a little bit out of place as he gives Liam instructions.

The Baby-Alpha, as Laura has called him since the second day, might be terrified of Derek, but he also seems to have a sixth sense for pregnant Omegas, because even when Derek sneaks away into the storage unit to carve a pumpkin Liam catches him four minutes in, looking so utterly horrified at the proximity of the sharp kitchen knife to where Biscuit is happily moving around that Derek gives up without too much of a fight.

Bored, he walks into the restaurant, wincing a little at a twinge in his back when he climbs on one of the luncheonette stools next to Erica.

“Hey Biscuit! Wow, you’re getting so big, good boy!” Erica grins, bending over to smack a kiss on Derek’s stomach and Derek clears his throat pointedly, gestures at his face.

“Hello Derek. Nice to see you, Derek. Aren’t you glad I remembered you’re not only an incubator defined by its circumference but an actual person, Derek?”

“Der-Bear! Moon of my life, my sun and stars, how _are_ you today?”

Erica doesn’t even pretend to be apologetic when she kisses all over his face in the most obnoxious way and Derek bats her away with a laugh, accepts the bro-hug Boyd bestows upon him with a grin.

“Good. Feeling a bit useless and a lot humongous, but good. Baby’s moving all the time now but that’s actually quite reassuring, so I really couldn’t complain,” Derek decides, giving in to Boyd’s puppy-dog eyes and pressing his best friend’s hand to the right spot, aware that he’d never ask.

“Good, I’m glad. Since you’re feeling so well, I’m sure you won’t object to us stealing you away for a little spontaneous photo-session that I might have been secretly planning behind your back for weeks now?”

“ _Ericaaaaa_!” Derek whines, gesturing at his body with an exasperated groan.

“I’m sure Biscuit’s not done growing yet, don’t you want to wait a little longer?”

“Nonsense, you’re the perfect Care Bear size right now! And besides, I know you; you’ll keep saying, ‘Let’s wait, I can still get bigger’ right until you go into labor. I’m sure you don’t want me painting on you while you’re writhing around in agony, so buckle up, Der-Bear, ‘cause I’m feeling artistic today! Also, you’re officially entering your third trimester this week and what better way to celebrate than with a commemorative photo-shoot?”

“Go ahead Derek, we’re way ahead on the Thanksgiving orders because Liam is faster than the Flash and it looks like most people are too busy stocking up for Thanksgiving to come have a meal here. We’ll be fine without you for the rest of the day.”

“Don’t you think I should …”

“Go!” Laura orders, grin downright gleeful and Derek resigns himself to his fate.

Resigns himself all the way until he realizes Erica expects him to don a furry costume with a hood that has crooked bear-ears, but not even his threats to withhold Biscuit-snuggle rights deter a paintbrush-wielding Erica from her quest.

The baby is apparently loving the attention – Derek is all but certain that it gets it from Stiles – and kicks up a storm, making it decidedly difficult for Erica to paint a storm-cloud and the end-result is somewhat underwhelming, but Derek tries to make up for it by scowling as hard as he can, a surprisingly difficult task when all he wants to do is laugh at Erica’s exasperated growls.

“Beautiful Boo-Boo. Very beautiful, let me call my art-dealer for a fancy frame,” Cora says drily when she sees the finished product that night, but minutes later Derek catches both of his sisters setting the picture of his Grumpy Bear rendition as their phone desktop, so he figures it’s not too bad after all.

 

_29 Weeks_

 

On the morning of the actual Thanksgiving holiday Derek uses the mild weather to escape the house for a few hours, feeling a bit guilty for leaving his sisters with the bulk of the preparations but figuring that he’d have spent most of his time being pampered on the couch anyways.

He’s not trying to run away from it all, not really, but when he swings his legs over the edge of bed that morning and hisses at the pain in his back he knows he shouldn’t be around people for a bit, setting out for a walk to soothe both his sore muscles and his mind.

They’re celebrating with Erica and Boyd, as they’ve done for many years, since both of their families aren’t particularly eager to explain the Omega-Omega pair to their extended relatives.

Derek knows his best friend and girlfriend are just as grateful to them as he and his sisters are to have them, saving them from a much too big Thanksgiving table that makes them feel their parents’ absence just that much stronger.

He doesn’t do it purpose, doesn’t realize where his feet are carrying him until he passes the gate of the cemetery, but once he notices where he is he knows he’s come to the right place, feels almost guilty he hasn’t stopped by sooner.

His parents’ grave is located at the East side of the cemetery, and Derek sits down on the grass, feeling the cold seeping through his jeans almost immediately.

“Hey Mom, hey Dad,” he says, listens to the sound of the birds for a moment and pretends they are saying hi back.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around in so long and I probably can’t stay long, because I’m pretty sure my back is trying to kill me today, but I guess that’s kind of the point of what I’m trying to tell you. Congrats, you are going to be grandparents! Only I really messed up along the way and I don’t know how to fix it.”

The birds are silent this time and Derek wipes away a tear with a snort, angry at himself for the hormonal spectacle.

“I guess I should be glad I at least know _who_ the Alpha is, but I really don’t know much beyond that and I hope you aren’t too disappointed in me. Cora thinks he’s out there looking for me, just as we’ve been looking for him, but I don’t think I can wait much longer and I really don’t know what to do.”

His phone buzzes in his pocket, a text reading, _About to put the turkey in the oven, where are you?_ and he texts back, _On my way_ , not because he’s planning to leave right this minute but because he knows Laura isn’t beyond calling the police to search for him at this point.

“I should be feeling thankful for my healthy, strong baby, and I am, I really am, but I _miss_ him so much. I still don’t understand it completely, but I do, and how am I supposed to be thankful for the knowledge that I’ll probably never see him again?”

Another buzz, this time with a text from Cora and when he reads _Do you need a ride?_ Derek wipes his hand across his face, feeling very, very tired.

 _Cemetery_ , he texts back, blows a kiss to the sky as he tells his parents goodbye and even though he still feels like crawling under his blankets and just sleeping through the rest of the day Derek finds his first reason to be thankful in Cora’s silence, the questions she doesn’t ask as she drives him back to their home, the fingers that lightly stroke over his knuckles every now and then.

Boyd and Erica are already there when he gets home, lounging in front of the television with wine and grape-juice as they wait for the turkey to be done.

For once no one asks him how he’s doing and no one mentions the baby all afternoon and Derek loves them for it, because they’re giving him the space he needs to sift through all the complicated emotions of this day.

He’s last to say thanks when they sit down for the big meal and when it’s his turn he just says, “My family,” meaning not only his baby and sisters but also Boyd and Erica, the people who are carrying him through all of this.

Later, Laura wins the fight for Derek-snuggles when they all curl up on the couch to watch horror movies, and when he sees her smile out of the corner of his eye when the baby delivers a particularly enthusiastic kick, Derek adds another item to his little list of thanks.

His baby might never know both of its parents, but it’ll grow up surrounded by love regardless.

_30 Weeks_

 

A week after Thanksgiving, Laura tells him to go home early and even though Derek doesn’t miss the not at all subtly hidden wink she directs at Liam, he decides not to question it, feeling much too grateful to be off his feet earlier than expected.

“If you can even consider them feet at this point, I’d say ugly misshaped blobs are much more appropriate now,” he muses, grunting just a little as he slips from his comfortable kitchen-sneakers into his winter-boots and Liam nods dutifully, looks like he’s about to give himself whiplash in his hell-bent determination to agree with everything Derek says so as to not upset him.

They are still recovering from Back-Pain-Disguised-as-Fake-Labor-Gate from earlier in the week and while Derek feels decidedly more at ease knowing that he’s got half a dozen people ready to jump into action when it’s time for the real deal, he does hope that when he actually goes into labor there won’t be – for a better lack of term – quite as much panicked screeching.

The downside of his body’s very public foray into practice-contractions right in the middle of their lunch-rush is that between Liam’s perpetually terror-widened eyes, Laura’s control visits to the kitchen, Cora’s suddenly much more frequent calls that – Derek has a sneaking suspicion – she makes hiding under her desk while she’s supposed to teach – and Boyd and Erica taking up permanent residence at the lunch counter the minute they get off work he’s feeling just a little bit … watched.

Stalked, actually.

And he gets it, after all his belly is now almost as large as the average Omega is on the day of the birth and he’d probably view it as a ticking time-bomb as well if he didn’t have the inside view on things, but it does get on his nerves quite a bit.

It’s a nice winter-afternoon, the sun is shining, and Derek appreciates the chance to get to walk home without a baby-sitter, takes his time as he inhales the crisp winter-air, even stops for a hot chocolate at Isaac’s little bakery, only to find the shop closed early.

Shrugging, Derek settles for a chai-tea from the coffee-shop one block down and the old lady who owns the store gives him a free cookie when she notices his mournful stare at the specialty coffee listing, her eyes kind as she makes polite small-talk about the baby.

“Yes, only a little over two months to go,” Derek says, resting his hand on top of his belly and trying not to show how nervous that number makes him and the old lady reaches over the counter and pats his cheek, assures him that, “It might feel like you’re dying a horrible, gruesome, violent death, but once it’s over you’ll see that child-birth actually isn’t all that scary!”

Armed with such wonderfully helpful advice Derek sets out for home, sipping his tea and pondering what exactly he can bribe his baby with to spare him a birth-experience that sounds like it’s been taken straight from the plot of _Alien_ and he’s so deep in thought that he doesn’t even notice the number of strange cars parked all around their drive-way, including Laura’s vehicle.

It’s already getting dark outside and when he steps inside the lights are out, a sign that Cora isn’t home from work yet. The house smells like cinnamon and gingerbread and Derek decides to settle in front of the fireplace until Cora gets home, wonders if he can get her to watch _Alien_ with him later.

He’s barely set a foot into their darkened living-room when the lights turn on and everyone yells, “Surprise!” and Derek is taken aback for a moment, his gaze flitting from the excited people beaming at him to the banner that says ‘Baby-Shower’ and suspiciously reminds him of the one they used in the summer of 2008, when his parents thought Laura needed an online-gaming intervention.

“Happy Baby-Shower, Boo-Boo!” his big sister beams and Derek smiles back, taking in his visitors.

He’s not surprised to see Erica and Boyd wave at him from the dessert table, and he’s pleasantly surprised that Liam and Mason found the time to attend even though they’ve only worked at the restaurant for a little over a month, but he’s genuinely taken aback – though happily so – by an excited Kira rushing over to hug him.

They’ve texted and he knows Laura took her and Scott out for drinks as a thank you for referring Liam and Mason to them earlier in November, but he’s touched that she showed up, despite not knowing him all that well yet.

“Isaac here made your cake so we hoped it was ok if he came along? He was our Best Omega at the wedding and I thought he and your family would … _hit it off_ ,” she says and Derek tips his imaginary hat to Laura’s scheming when he notices his sister’s smug grin over Kira’s shoulder.

Cora looks like she’s not sure whether to throw up or to dance in excitement and when Isaac shyly sits down next to her – after literally being pushed into her direction by Laura – Derek sincerely hopes Cora’s ten year plan might be shortened just a little bit.

The door-bell rings and because Derek is still sharing an amused smile with Laura he can see his big sister literally freeze on the spot when the newcomer enters after being let in by Boyd, her expression going dumbstruck as her eyes widen to saucers.

Derek turns around and although he’s never really been attracted to Omegas before even he has to do a double-take at the strawberry-blonde woman who just entered the room, looking like her being here is a completely natural and unremarkable occurrence, even though no one knows who she is.

“Hey, my name is Lydia. I hope I’m not crashing the party but my dear friends here decided to get you an elaborate gift and realized halfway through they have no idea how to assemble it. Naturally, they called me, because that’s the kind of stuff my MIT mathematics degree qualifies me to do. Well, that and a Fields Medal one day, but for now I shall stick to what’s really important.”

Her words are a bit on the sharp side but Derek can tell she truly means what she’s saying and he shakes her hand warmly, pretends not to hear Laura’s low whine at the mention of the Fields Medal because he’s a good brother and won’t embarrass her.

“Derek!” Laura hisses as Lydia sits down next to Kira, sounding like a terrified cat, and when Derek joins her in the hallway he can’t help but smile at the way his big sister is pretty much shaking in excitement.

“Laura?” he asks, amused, and Laura gesticulates for him to come closer, looking simultaneously elated and terrified.

“Derek! I need you to go check out the future mother of my children!” she orders and Derek cocks his head, amused.

“The what now?” he asks and Laura groans loudly, then claps her hands over her mouth with a shocked expression.

“Shush Boo-Boo! The future mother of my children! She’s sitting in my living-room and she smells like the ocean and everything else that’s good and perfect in this world and if I go in there again right now I’ll propose and I don’t think that’s appropriate, so you have to figure out her deal, first!”

“Future mother of your children. Got it. About what should we talk exactly? Her ovulation cycle?” Derek asks agreeably, amused at his sister’s antics and Laura punches his shoulder – though gently – looking almost desperate.

“No! I don’t … just talk to her! Figure out if she’s the mother of my children or not! You’re knocked up; you’re supposed to have a sense for these sorts of things now! Please Derek, _pleeeeeeeease_!”

“Has someone ever told you that you move ridiculously fast?” Derek asks gently and Laura huffs, almost in desperation.

“All the time! It’s why I’m desperately single yet happily available for the Ginger Goddess in my freaking living room!” she whispers, and Derek decides to have mercy, kisses Laura’s cheek before he waddles back into the living room, hoping that the Omega hasn’t heard any of it as he plasters on his best “Are you the future mother of my sister’s children … asking for a friend’-Smile.

They’re still waiting for Scott and his best friend – Danny, Derek remembers – to actually carry the gift to the house – a job that apparently requires two grown Alphas and much more logistics than Kira is willing to explain – and so Derek uses the opportunity to sit down next to Lydia, turning towards her with raised eyebrows.

“So, stranger that I just met but welcome at the baby-shower I didn’t know I was going to have … what are your immediate life-plans?” he asks, hands lightly rubbing his belly because he’s decided that pregnant people get away with a lot of things if they just look _pregnant_ enough and Lydia doesn’t even blink at the rather straight-forward question.

“Oh you know. The usual. Get mated, have a truckload full of kids, choose their names in a way that won’t humiliate me when I thank them all during my Fields Medal acceptance speech in a couple of years. Normal Omega stuff, really. Say, is your sister single by any chance?”

There’s a crash from the kitchen and Derek just barely fights the urge to hide his face behind his hands, his voice just a little pained when he says, “Obviously.”

“Good to know. Very good to know,” Lydia decides, her gaze just a bit on the challenging side, as if she’s telling him “You play the straight-forward game, I play it, too.”

“Who wants something to drink? Cocoa? Coffee? Christmas Punch? I made it myself! It’s in the basement! Non-alcoholic, because that’s not good for Boo-Boo! Punch, anyone?”

Derek knows that look on Laura’s face and by the way Cora almost chokes on her laughter she recognizes it, too, the “I’m a mighty provider, hear me roar” look Laura only adapts when she’s posturing with _intent_ and next to him Lydia nods, her smile calculating but sweet as she says, “Yes please. With a little umbrella.”

Laura’s eyes basically turn into little heart-shaped glowing dots and Derek’s so focused on her hasty retreat that he doesn’t even realize Erica’s put a flower-crown on his head.

It’s a classic tradition for a baby-shower, symbolizing some sort of blooming-crap that Derek’s forgotten, but he keeps the crown on for now, figuring that he can indulge a – already slightly tipsy – Erica just for a couple of minutes to take more pictures for her quickly growing collection of ridiculous images of him.

“So, what do you actually do for a living?” Boyd asks Lydia as they wait for Laura to come back and Lydia looks pleased, clearly used to people not being very interested in her career.

“I’m finishing up my grad work, actually. I’ve been doing some studies on probability theory and I’m pretty sure I’ve discovered a new way of approaching it,” she says and Erica makes an interested sound, her eyes sparkling when she turns to Derek.

“Did you hear that? Maybe she can calculate the probability of when and where you’re going to run into that Knothead Stiles again … would save us all a bunch of time and misery!”

Derek flinches, prepared to laugh off Erica’s rather inappropriate comment as his friend just having begun the “Any social gathering is an opportunity for free drinks, even if the host can’t participate”-part of the afternoon a bit early, and so at first he doesn’t even notice how Kira, Lydia, Isaac, Liam, and Mason freeze, their expressions wavering between confusion, shock and – in Lydia’s case – down-right shell-shocked realization.

“ _Stiles_? Who is this Stiles and why did you call him a Knothead?” Kira meeps, her own face going through the motions of someone who’s just put two and two together and Derek cradles his belly almost automatically, feeling a little unsettled by the scrutiny.

“That’s … kind of an awkward question for small talk,” he tries, grateful when Cora takes over, her voice carrying a warning that’s hard to miss.

“Stiles is the _Alpha_ who ran out on Derek months ago, even though everyone knows you _never_ knot an Omega during a one-night stand! We’ve been trying to get a hold of him for months but try finding someone who didn’t even have the courtesy of telling my brother his real name! Not easy, I can assure you, especially since he didn’t even leave his number. At least he found the time to get him pregnant, so I guess that’s something,” she says, her voice clipped.

Next to Lydia, Kira lets out a startled gasp and then she’s scrambling for her phone, typing out a text with lightening speed and looking like she’s expecting the house to be hit by an earthquake any second now.

She jerks so badly she almost falls out of her seat when the doorbell rings mere seconds after and Derek can hear Laura run up the stairs to answer, his sister’s voice muffled by the door to the hallway as she greets the newcomers and tells them to go ahead, the tell-tale clacking of her stilettos headed towards the kitchen for the punch-glasses.

“Oh wait, Kira just texted me, maybe they haven’t done the surprise yet,” Scott’s voice rings through the door, loud and clear now that they’ve almost crossed the hallway.

His friend grunts in acknowledgement – obviously carrying something heavy – and when Scott screeches, “ _Holy Shit!_ Wait, Stiles, don’t go in there!” a second later Derek’s heart just about leaps into his throat.

He can see Cora’ tensing out of the corner of his eye, can feel the baby kicking almost frantically at the way his heartbeat has undoubtedly started to gallop, but his only focus is on the door, the torturously slow motion of the door-handle going down as whoever stands behind it prepares to enter the living-room.

Derek holds his breath when the door swings open.

There is a sharp gasp.

And then, at eight months pregnant and after over half a year of worrying, searching, lying awake at night, and _hoping_ , surrounded by his friends and family and wearing a most ridiculous flower-crown, Derek finally comes face to face again with the Alpha-daddy of his baby.

For this long, awkward moment no one says anything, the silence so thick you could slice through it, and Stiles is just _staring_ at him, his gaze flitting back and forth between his face and his belly, beautifully put on display by the shape-accentuating Henley from Kira’s store.

As Stiles continues to stare at him without even blinking Derek takes a moment to consider how he’d feel as an Alpha if he randomly ran into a very, very, _very_ pregnant Omega who undoubtedly smells like him because of the baby (finally explaining Scott and Kira’s insistence that he smells familiar).

He comes up with fainting, running away, throwing up, and screaming hysterically as plausible reactions and the fact that Stiles isn’t currently engaged in any of these activities makes his heart beat faster in his chest.

Stiles still isn’t moving but his nostrils are flaring now, soaking in Derek’s scent, and Derek can tell the exact moment when Stiles realizes that he’s smelling _their_ baby, a perfect little being created by both of them, because his eyes glow the brightest Alpha-red that Derek has ever seen, brighter even than Laura’s.

Stiles makes a sound like he was just punched in the throat, and when he whispers, “ _Derek_?” his voice is all at once familiar and unfamiliar, filled with so much shock, confusion, longing, excitement, and _want_ that Derek doesn’t even know how to respond.

“ _Stiles_ ” he breathes, and before he can even attempt to put his feelings into words there is a high-pitched gasp and a loud crash, making Stiles literally jump where he’s standing and startling everyone out of their shocked stasis.

“You have _got_ to be _kidding_ me!”

Derek might be completely lost for words for the moment, but he has a sinking feeling his older sister is anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Up: The final chapter


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support my lovelies! I appreciate all of you!

In the seconds following Laura’s outraged exclamation Derek’s somewhat shock-numbed mind inexplicably has a moment to ponder gender stereotypes.

Specifically, Alpha-stereotypes, because he’s never seen Laura look so furious in his entire life, not even during the horribly awkward conversation he had with her a little over six months ago, while kneeling on the floor of their bathroom and shaking like a leaf as he’d tried to explain to her that he had no idea how to reach the Alpha who had gotten him pregnant.

She had been pretty furious then, so the expression on her face now is almost enough to make Derek seriously fear for Stiles’ safety.

While it is true that Alphas are more prone to aggression by nature, especially when an Omega is threatened, Laura, for all she loves posturing, has always rejected brutish displays of dominance, despite her somewhat heated temper.

Looking at her now, Derek is somewhat concerned she’s strongly reconsidering her stance on maiming and forcible castration and it’s instinct, really, that makes him attempt to get off his chair, intending on stepping between them, if only to avoid having to explain to his baby why Alpha-Daddy sounds like an Eunuch and they have to go see Auntie Laura in prison.

Sadly, he doesn’t take _Cora_ ’s instincts into account and before he even makes it halfway out of his chair his sister is already standing in front him, her entire body thrumming with fury that surpasses even Laura’s.

“You _Knothead_! What the hell were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all? How _could_ you?” she barks and when Stiles’ face loses the rest of the admittedly little color he had going for him to begin with, Derek, for the first time in his life, briefly considers fainting to escape the situation.

“What? I … _Derek_? But … but … _what_?” Stiles stammers, looking shell-shocked and trying to peer around Cora, but Derek’s sister blocks the way, looking like she’s ready to fight him if she has to.

Derek corrects himself – they’re going to visit Auntie _Cora_ in prison, but at least his little sister can pull off orange marginally better than Laura.

A second later essentially everyone except Derek starts talking and the pregnant Omega just sits back, stunned, his mind reeling as the insults and accusations flying across the room finally form the big picture everyone has been missing for months.

“ _You’re_ the Derek Stiles has been going on about for months? But … you’re _pregnant_!” (Scott)

“Damn right he’s pregnant! Which reminds me, I’m going to kill you! I am literally going to kill you and serve you up as ‘Irresponsible Knothead Burger of the Day’, _why the hell did you not leave your fucking number?_ ” (Laura)

“ _That’s_ why he smelled so familiar, oh my god! Damn it Stiles, why didn’t you say he was in heat?” (Kira)

“Because he wasn’t, he couldn’t have ... _oh my god_!” (Stiles)

“What the hell are you implying here? And why the hell would you tell him a false name?! How were we supposed to get a hold of you with a fucking false name? My computer crashed _three_ times because of fucking dick-pics, this is _all your fault_!” (Cora)

“What? Dick-pics? I don’t … and I didn’t give him a false name, my name is … aww crap!” (Stiles)

“You were literally on the phone with me when he was in the store, if I’d known I would have … oh my god!” (Kira)

“Wait a second, _what_? Why wouldn’t you … I _told_ you how hot he was, how could you not …” (Stiles)

“That’s my _baby-brother_ you’re talking about you knot-driven, little …” (Laura)

When Scott jumps on a chair and hectically waves his arms to get everyone to calm down Derek takes a deep breath, considers.

On the downside, his sisters and Stiles are probably about to kill each other.

On the plus-side, their heated argument has given Derek some much needed time to process the fact that the Alpha of his baby, the man he’s been looking for all this time, is finally here, and even though his heart is still beating much faster than is probably healthy for a heavily pregnant Omega, he’s pretty confident that he’s going to be able to get through the initial confrontation without any unnecessary theatrics, crying, vomiting, and/or fainting.

It’s … not his finest moment, for sure, but as entertaining as the Alpha-posturing-blame-game unfolding right in front of him is – from a surreal perspective, admittedly – Derek’s starting to get a bit tired of more or less being ignored when, by all accounts, _he_ should be the center of attention right now.

The baby kicks hard, obviously in agreement, and Derek sighs, discreetly takes off the flower crown – though something’s telling him he’s still got petals stuck in his slightly longer than normal hair - takes a deep breath and then lets out a loud gasp, followed by an “Ow!”

The effect is instantaneous as all voices in the room come to an abrupt halt, eyes flashing left and right around him and he sighs again, gets up as elegantly as he can – which is to say not very – and looks at Stiles, resting both hands over the child’s agitated movements for emphasis.

“So …” he begins, then curses the fact that he pretty much slept through speech-class.

“We ... should probably … talk?”

Out of the corner of his eyes Derek sees Boyd and Erica gripping Laura and Cora’s shoulders with iron-grips but Derek ignores them for now, entirely focused on Stiles.

Stiles’ eyes follow his hands’ movements, once more flashing bright red, and then, essentially without any warning, his shocked expression crumbles to something that looks like downright agony.

“I’m so sorry Derek! So sorry! I left that hotel room and I didn’t even realize until I was watching Scotty walk down the aisle and imagining it was you that I hadn’t left my number! I called the hotel the moment the ceremony was over but you were already gone and then I thought maybe you’d asked the receptionist for my information but you never called and … god, Derek, I couldn’t get you out of my head for _weeks_ , but I had to go back to finish my stupid training-seminar and when I _finally_ came back for good at the beginning of summer no one had seen you at the bar in weeks and I … holy shit, I got you pregnant, didn’t I? But you weren’t in heat so I didn’t think it would … oh god, I’m so sorry!”

He takes a deep breath, his chest heaving and Derek does a quick calculation, nods to himself.

“Morning-sickness and bar-hopping doesn’t quite go together so I guess that would explain that. Why you didn’t see me, I mean,” he says, feeling just a little bit surreal.

He’s going to be calm and rational about this, he’s not going to turn into a blubbering, hormonal mess at the literal onslaught of Stiles’ Alpha pheromones on his body, so strong that it’s taking everything he has not to say ‘Fuck it’, wrap the Alpha up in his arms, kiss him senseless and never let him go.

For one, Laura and Cora would probably kill both of them.

Secondly, his inner Omega has never been the master of him and he’s sure as hell not going to start now, not when he’s got a baby to think of.

Stiles looks almost gutted by his impassioned tone but the Alpha bravely barrels on, taking one step towards Derek and flexing his hands at his sides, as if he really wants to touch but knows it would be massively inappropriate.

“I remembered you were a cook at a diner and first I tried to look you up at our computers at the Sheriff station, but you didn’t have a record, so I spent the last couple of months going to every single burger restaurant in the city to see if I could find you! I even tried those strange fusion-places, but the only Derek who worked as a cook _anywhere_ was a 70-year old hippie who I’m pretty sure wasn’t using his mushrooms for food exclusively, so that became awkward really fast! Where _is_ your restaurant by the way, how could I have possibly missed it?”

When Derek tells him the address Stiles shakes his head determinedly.

“Nope, nuh uh, I went to that one a month ago and the boys who were handing out soup said they didn’t know any Derek!”

“Gosh-frackin-damn it!” Cora curses all of a sudden and suddenly Kira’s exclamation about Stiles being on the phone makes a lot more sense to Derek, because he knows exactly on which day Stiles went to the restaurant and for a moment he’s seriously inclined to ask Cora for her students’ addresses so he can go over and personally throttle them.

Going by the look on Cora’s face she’d probably be all too willing to help, making sure Derek’s baby not only gets to visit Auntie Cora in prison but also Papa, so Derek hastily quells down his hormonally charged homicidal urges.

Stiles looks horribly confused and Derek sighs, decides to focus on what’s important.

“If we could get back to the matter at hand?” he asks, rubbing his belly for emphasis and to convince his baby that despite the overall excitement he’d like to keep his ribs intact, thank you, and Stiles takes another step towards him on pure instinct, his eyes once more flashing deeply red as he inhales deeply.

When he speaks again he sounds incredibly hesitant, not at all like the confident Alpha Derek met that night at the bar.

“Hi,” he whispers, shuffling his feet a little and Derek is taken aback by the longing he can hear in his voice, mixed with a very clear fear of rejection.

“Hi,” he says back, not sure what else to respond.

The baby kicks ‘hi’, too, and Stiles’ gaze drops to his belly once more, still shocked but also full of wonderment.

“Mine,” he says, more a statement than a question and when Derek nods Stiles takes a deep breath, looking determined.

“Alright, ok. Wow. Alright. Well, I guess if I’d told you this months ago we wouldn’t be in this mess right now, but here goes. Hi, my name is Mieczslaw Stilinski, Stiles to my friends. I’m the guy who spent the past months looking for you, even though all my friends told me to just let it go. Only I couldn’t and believe me, I thought I was going just a little bit insane but I just … couldn’t. You can ask my roommate Danny, at one point he declared a ban on mentioning the name ‘Derek’ in our apartment, it was that bad. And I know that makes me sound like a creepy stalker who creeps but I promise that’s not what this is. Hell, I don’t even know what this is, all I know is that I’ve thought about you every single day for the past eight months and now I’ve finally found you and you’re carrying my _baby_ and I really don’t want to mess this up, only something tells me I already have and … oh my god, you must have thought I’d …”

“Stiles,” Derek says softly, holding up one hand to calm him down and Stiles shuts his mouth with a click, looking almost scared.

“I’m Derek Hale. I’m the guy who, despite having a history of irregular heats, let a perfect stranger knot me during a one-night stand and then spent the next eight months wondering if I’d ever find you again. For the record, I never thought you’d run out on me on purpose, I just … I didn’t know what to think. It’s been a crazy couple of months. I tried finding you, too, but you weren’t on social media and none of the Scott Delgados Laura called had a best friend named Stiles, so we tried Craiglist, but …”

“ _Craigslist_! Dude, I’m a cop! I know what kind of shit goes on there, I wouldn’t have even thought of … wait, are you ok? Did you meet some creepy perverts, do I need to arrest them?”

“Scott Delgado? Why would you have been looking for a Scott Delgado? My name is Scott McCall, Delgado is my mom’s _maiden-name_!” Scott chimes in, looking like he’s still processing and Derek would laugh at Laura’s, “ _Now_ you tell me!”, he would, if he wasn’t too busy searching Stiles’ face for a sign of a freak-out.

The Alpha sighs, rubs his hands across his face.

“Derek, this has been the biggest misunderstanding I have ever had the misfortune to be at the center of and you have no idea how sorry I am that you had to go through all of this on your own! I’m not going to run away from you and I’d neverrun away from our … our _baby_ , but I could definitely understand if you never wanted to see me again. It would break my heart, but I’d …”

“That’s not what I want at all,” Derek interrupts him quickly, his own tension releasing just a little when the utterly destroyed expression on Stiles’ face is replaced with a sliver of hope.

“I can’t promise you anything, I mean, we don’t actually _know_ each other but … I want you to be in the baby’s life. So I’d be ok with taking things slow. Not too slowly, I mean, I’m due in ten weeks and I’d rather prefer knowing where we’re going to go from here at that time, but I _do_ want to get to know you. If that’s something you want, too?”

“More than anything!” Stiles says with emphasis, his hands still twitching at his sides and Derek decides to give in to his instincts, his eyes glowing just the faintest Omega gold as he steps forward, grabs Stiles’ restless hands and places them on his belly.

It’s probably his imagination but he can almost feel the baby’s contentment at the first contact with its actual Alpha and Stiles looks like his world has just been re-assembled, the look on his face reminding Derek of how he himself felt when he first saw his baby on the ultrasound screen.

“The stakes are pretty high, you know that, right?” he asks, suddenly all too aware of Cora and Laura’s death-glares, and Stiles nods slowly, his eyes serious when he looks at Derek.

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

There’s a nudge against Stiles’ hand, and when the Alpha’s still shell-shocked expression morphs into a stunned but joyful smile Derek … believes him.

 

_34 Weeks_

It’s not that easy.

It’s not unbearably hard, either, but it’s definitely not easy to balance work, dating, and final preparations for the baby, all while being nine months pregnant, but the more he’s getting to know Stiles the more Derek believes it can work out, sees the same conviction mirrored back in the Alpha’s amber eyes.

They have a long talk once the world’s shortest baby-shower comes to its abrupt end and after Laura has seen Lydia out the door (making a point of writing down her phone-number right in front of Stiles and looking like she’s still taking a mental inventory of the sharp knives at the restaurant) Derek’s sisters retreat to the kitchen, giving them privacy while still being in earshot and for once Derek appreciates their over-protectiveness, still feeling almost steam-rolled by the rapid events.

In the evening Stiles leaves him with his phone number, his work-number, Scott’s number, his _father’s_ number (Derek’s baby is going to have a grand-parent after all and he blames the weepiness that hits him at the thought solely on the hormones), and the plans for a first date and the moment he’s out the door Laura and Cora wrap Derek up in a firm embrace, telling him without words that they’ll be there in case it all backfires.

Derek’s never been known for his optimist streak, but somehow, this time, he doesn’t think it will.

Their first date is low-key (“Dinner and a movie, I thought I’d do this properly for once”) and over the course of the evening Derek learns quite a few things about the Alpha-daddy of his baby.

Stiles is loud, sarcastic, and occasionally a bit obnoxious, but he’s also fiercely loyal, warm-hearted, intelligent, and funny, and he looks at Derek like he’s a golden egg that must not be cracked under any circumstances.

Of course Derek isn’t quite sure if the look stems from the fact that he is pretty much shaped like an extra-large egg at this point or if the man just has an affinity for shiny metal, but he can definitely imagine a future in which Stiles looks at him with such reverence for the rest of their lives.

There are a few awkward moments, but Stiles just talks through them, looking so eagerly determined he almost reminds Derek of a doe-eyed puppy.

When he drops Derek off at his front-door Stiles looks hesitant for a second before he places a soft kiss on the Omega’s cheek and then he holds Derek’s gaze all the way down to the crest of his belly, searching for confirmation before he kisses the top, then pulls away blushing like crazy.

Derek’s wearing a shirt and a winter-jacket and it’s maybe a bit awkward, but the baby responds with a somersault regardless.

Despite their good intentions, however, they actually don’t get to see each other all that much during the first three weeks, since Stiles can’t just take off work and the restaurant is filled to bursting almost every-day.

Then it’s Christmas and although Laura still occasionally looks like she’s considering castration techniques when Stiles walks through the door Derek’s sisters agree to invite Stiles and his father for dinner so that the two families can get to know each other.

As a result, Derek spends a horribly stilted evening with the future grandfather of his child, who’s just about as no-nonsense as Cora and quickly bonds with Derek’s little sister.

The Sheriff is a nice man but he’s also guarded and Derek gets it, would probably feel uneasy about his own child getting him or herself into such a complicated situation.

Stiles might be the Alpha who knotted an Omega during a one-night stand and didn’t leave his number, but Derek is the Omega who ignored his irregular heats and didn’t insist on extra protection, so he’s horribly nervous that the older man might disapprove of him.

It isn’t until they say goodbye and Derek hesitantly offers the other Omega to say goodbye to the baby that Sheriff Stilinski thaws a little, his whispered, “Be good to him,” directed as much at Stiles as it is at Derek.

Stiles takes off work between Christmas and New Years and with the restaurant closed Derek actually has time to spend entire days with Stiles, feeling almost startled when he realizes how hard it’s becoming to let the Alpha go at night.

They are still taking it slow, gentle caresses and kisses on the cheek only, but Stiles’ lips linger just that much longer with every kiss and Derek comes close to just turning his face and drawing him in more than once, wondering what exactly is holding him back.

The baby kicks every time, as if it’s trying to say, “I have no idea, either, because, just in case it wasn’t obvious, the train for saving yourself has kind of left the station” and every time Stiles looks at him with that hopeful smile of his Derek’s quite inclined to agree.

New Year’s is a mostly pleasant affair and although she drops a couple of unnecessarily catty remarks Erica and Stiles bond easily, just like Derek predicted, even though he has to roll his eyes just a little when Stiles starts calling the baby Biscuit as well.

Laura and Lydia are still getting to know each other but Derek is pretty sure it’s mutual, his heart singing with happiness for his big sister as he watches them smile at each other, their hands brushing every so often with the promise of more.

Meanwhile, Cora and Isaac dance around each other all evening, both of them clearly interested but waiting on the other to make the first move.

Derek doesn’t have much hope for that to happen this year but the new year is just around the corner and about five minutes before midnight Cora ends up surprising him when she exclaims, “What the heck!”, grabs Isaac, buries her hands in his curly hair and kisses the shit out of him.

They are still making out by the time the clock strikes midnight and when Stiles aims for his cheek Derek echoes his sister’s words in his head, grasps Stiles’ face and pulls him in for a soft kiss instead.

Stiles kisses him like a starving man, arms wrapped around him and pulling him close and as their friends yell out, “Happy New Year!” Derek is pretty damn sure that it’ll be the best one yet.

 

_38 Weeks_

Stiles takes a vacation day to accompany Derek to his 38 weeks appointment with Doctor McCall, his legs jittering with nerves as the woman who has been an Alpha figure for him for most of his life first chews him out for knotting an Omega without protection and then, after he’s sufficiently hung his head in shame, hugs him with a beaming smile, her whispered, “Congratulations, kid!” full of love and affection.

When the familiar sound of the heartbeat fills the room Derek doesn’t look at the screen for once but at Stiles, takes in the wonder in his eyes and the way his smile lights up the entire room.

The baby is almost fully developed now and with ultrasound technology being as advanced as it is Stiles wastes no time to proudly inform Derek that the baby has definitely inherited the Stilinski button-nose, as well as his mouth, and Melissa agrees readily, adding, “Let’s hope it doesn’t inherit your set of lungs,” with a good-natured smile.

“Do you want to know the chromosomal gender? Derek decided not to do the optional blood-test that would determine whether you guys are expecting a little Alpha or Omega, but I’ve got a pretty good view on Biscuit’s privates here,” she offers and Derek shakes his head with a smile, appreciates Stiles’ acceptance of his decision even though the Alpha is dying to find out whether they’ll have a boy or a girl.

“Do you have a preference?” Derek asks him later that night, leaning back against Stiles’ chest with a small sigh as he watches the man trace circles over Derek’s belly, fingers twitching against the shirt every now and then.

“Of course not. I can play trains _and_ braid hair with equal enthusiasm, I’ll rock being a boy-daddy as well as a girl-daddy, so why would I care?” Stiles answers, placing a light kiss on the shell of Derek’s ear.

“Do you have a hunch?” Derek asks, teasingly, and Stiles chuckles.

“When I referred to Biscuit as a girl Cora gave me the stink-eye and when I referred to it as a boy Laura looked like she was reconsidering her promise not to wear my testicles around her neck. I’m not an idiot; as long as I’m on probation with your sisters I’m keeping my daddy-hunch to myself. But yeah, I have one. I’m not telling, but I definitely have an idea,” he says and Derek grins, wonders if he has the same hunch Derek’s been having almost since the day he found out he was pregnant.

“And just so you know, I _really_ don’t care whether we’re going to have a little Omega or an Alpha. I know some Alphas are really gung-ho on the whole ‘An Alpha to Carry on the Bloodline’-thing, but I’ve never bought into that nonsense. My Alpha mother died when I was 10 years old and my Omega Sheriff father raised me on his own through the most challenging parts of my adolescence. I always thought he was the strongest, bravest person on the planet and it wasn’t until Junior High and that first horrid sex-ed class that I was informed Omegas were actually considered the weaker sex.

I was so confused when I went home that day that my father had to sit me down and give me a really long talk about social injustice and _boy_ was that a fun conversation to be had at the age of 13. The point is, to me, the only real difference between Alphas and Omegas is that you guys are the ones who are carrying our babies and if you ask me, if we’re actually keeping score that one definitely makes you the strongersex. Let’s face it, I’d have thrown in the towel after that first Braxton Hicks – at the _latest_. Heck, my dad was in labor with me for 36 hours – a fact he likes to remind me of every time I deny him unhealthy food by the way – and my strong, courageous Alpha mother supposedly passed out three times, had two panic attacks, and at one point took a two hour ‘coffee break’ during which she hid in the closet with her hands over her ears.

… Granted, it was probably closer to five minutes, she loved my dad fiercely and would have never done something like that to him, but the length of her scandalous flight definitely increased every time he told that story. Also, I had a really big head and Dad says he’d rather get shot in the stomach than having to relive the utmost joy that was my crowning-moment. He’s experienced both, so he can definitely compare the two. _Weaker_ sex my shiny ass!” he grumbles and Derek smiles fondly, his own hands coming to rest upon Stiles’ and keeping them still.

“Our baby takes after you then, because I’m pretty sure I’m going to give birth to a giant,” Derek says and Stiles shrugs, broad hands trying to cover as much of the Omega’s swollen abdomen as he can with limited success.

“I like it,” he says easily and Derek closes his eyes when Stiles makes a grab for the lotion on the beside table, hesitating only briefly before he pushes Derek’s shirt up and begins to massage the ointment into his skin.

“Nature is smart,” Derek remarks after a while and when Stiles mutters, “Huh?” he explains, “It really didn’t bother me all that much up until now, but these last couple of days I’m really starting to feel the strain of carrying around all that extra mass. Not that I’m frothing at the mouth with excitement over the prospect of going through hours and hours of agony here in a little while, but nature definitely knew what it was doing when it made the last weeks of a pregnancy downright tedious. I’ll be glad when this is over.”

“No kidding,” Stiles mutters, fingers slowing against him and when Derek wiggles his butt to relieve a nagging ache in the small of his back his eyebrows rise almost up to his hairline at what he feels pressing against his back.

“Really?” he asks, genuinely surprised and Stiles snorts, his voice a little breathy when he says, “You have no idea how you smell to me, do you? How you feel under my hands? Against my body? For the record, I’m totally about consent and I’m definitely respecting your wish to take this slow, but man, I haven’t been this blue-balled ever since the 10th grade, when I took a lacrosse stick to the testicles and literally couldn’t for weeks! You feel like mine, you smell like mine, and I just really want to mark you all over and make sure everyone knows you belong to me and I to you … uhm … yeah. So yeah, definitely really.”

“The last time you saw me naked you spent ten minutes licking all over my abs and declaring them to be a Michelangelo statue come to life,” Derek reminds him gently and Stiles scoffs, punctuating his statement with a flick of his tongue against Derek’s ear.

“Oh trust me Derek, I’d lick all over you right now if you’d let me. Well, maybe not your hair, because I think I’d probably choke on a hairball … unless that’s something you’re into, of course, but I can’t promise it won’t be like that one time Melissa’s cat tried to hack up a particularly large hairball and barfed all over the new carpet.”

“Was your dirty-talk this bad when I let you put this baby in me?” Derek wonders out loud and Stiles laughs, presses a gentle kiss to Derek’s cheek.

“Nah, I was feeling pretty secure then, this kind of stuff only happens when I’m nervous.”

Derek ponders the information for a second before he gently pushes himself to a sitting position, gesturing for Stiles to move out from behind him and sit down cross-legged in front of him on the bed, waits until they are facing each other before he takes Stiles’ hands in his, strokes his knuckles with his thumbs.

“Why are you nervous?” he asks and Stiles sighs.

“Where to even begin? For starters, I have a gorgeous, very pregnant Omega in my bed right now and I want to fulfill the needs that have been seriously neglected for months, only I’m terrified of hurting him. Meanwhile, the Omega’s sisters are just outside and probably waiting for me to make the smallest mistake so they can drag me out by my ears – or my knot, probably, at least that’s the gist I got from Cora – and I _get_ that Laura’s been the substitute Alpha for almost the entire pregnancy, I do, but she _has_ to stop looking at me like I’m about to bolt. At least Cora is starting to make an effort now but Laura looks at me like she believes I’ll run out the door the very next second without leaving my number and I’m afraid she’s never going to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. I get it, I do and I know you believe me when I say that I will never regret a moment of inconsideration more than that particular day. But I can’t change what happened and if your sisters aren’t willing to move on from it I worry that it will affect _us_ in the future.”

He takes a deep breath, throat working as he swallows, his hands once more wandering to Derek’s belly, a soft pressure against the taut skin.

“Most of all, I am nervous about being a horrible father. I mean, think about it, I accidentally abandoned my own baby hours after it was conceived, even though everyone keeps saying that I should have _known_ , that my inner Alpha should have somehow picked up on the fact that we made a little baby that night even though I didn’t even realize you were on the onset of a freakin’ heat! How can I possibly top that with the next screw-up? And you? What if I screw up with you? I’ve already left you alone for so long, what if I’ll let you down during the birth and hide in a closet for hours, what if I’ll run from responsibility every time there’s a problem, what if …”

“Stiles,” Derek says softly, cupping the younger man’s face with his hands and looking into his eyes.

“Are you planning on doing any of that?”

“What? Of course not!” Stiles protests, looking confused when Derek smiles.

“Well, then that’s good enough for me. Biscuit literally does a happy dance every time he hears your voice and children are said to have great instincts, so I highly doubt you’ll be a crappy dad. As for my sisters, I can talk to them if you want me to, but they’ll realize soon enough that you’re serious about this … about us. It wasn’t easy to do this without you and they worried a lot, so you have to be patient with them. That doesn’t mean they are allowed to be rude to you but just … give them a little time. Besides, Laura knows Lydia comes in a package deal with you as her most trusted confidant and if all else fails she’ll still be nice to you because if she doesn’t Lydia might withhold sex. And Cora actually likes you already, she just takes a while to warm up to people, as evidenced by the fact that it took her over two years to make the moves on Isaac even though she had the color-palette for the nursery picked out the day after she met him. And as far as my needs are concerned …”

Derek smiles, his ears blushing ever so slightly when he pulls off his shirt, never breaking eye contact with Stiles, who suddenly looks like a starving man.

“I don’t think it’s medically advisable to do this the way I want to at this point, at least not for another couple of weeks, but there’s other stuff we can do. Together.”

“Don’t offer because you want to make me feel better about potentially being a crappy daddy,” Stiles says hoarsely and Derek grins, rubs his hand over his own crotch slowly.

“Actually, I want _both_ of us to feel better. If you know what I mean.”

“I have literally _no_ idea and we both suck at dirty talk,” Stiles declares dramatically, but then he’s kissing Derek, teeth nipping on his lips with intent and Derek loses himself to the sensation, listens to his body as they move against each other, carefully yet heatedly at the same time.

Later, after they’ve both taken a shower, Stiles is lying next to him, a recent but very welcome development in their relationship as a new couple.

They’re both on their sides, facing each other, and Derek is well on his way to falling asleep when Stiles suddenly whispers, “ _He_ , huh?”, his hand following the movements under Derek’s skin with gentle caresses.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” Derek whispers back, saying it out loud for the first time, and Stiles grins, leans forward just enough so he can press a soft kiss to Derek’s lips, mouths, “Me, too.”

He continues to gently stroke Derek’s stomach, smiling every so often when the baby nudges against his hand and Derek gives up on sleep for the moment, decides to just watch the Alpha bond with their baby.

“He’s going to be here so soon,” Stiles marvels, looking up at Derek with an earnest expression.

“Do you think we’re going to be ready when he gets here?” he wonders and Derek shrugs, stifles a small yawn.

“I don’t think you can ever truly be ready, you know? But I think we’re on a good path,” he says, and Stiles smiles, an excited smile that lights up his entire face.

“Hey Derek?” he whispers a couple of minutes later, his eyes glowing faintly in the darkness and Derek mutters, “Hmm?” eyes already closed as he’s allowing himself to be lulled to sleep by Stiles’ gentle ministrations.

“You don’t have to tell me yours, but my Daddy-Hunch says our son is going to be a handsome, perfect little Omega,” Stiles says softly and when presses the softest of kisses against Derek’s belly the pregnant Omega smiles, his hands carding through Stiles’ hair as the Alpha rests his cheek against his stomach.

His Papa-Hunch says their little boy is going to be a beautiful, perfect little Alpha, but he’s willing to let Stiles believe otherwise.

 

_41 Weeks_

“If you haven’t gone into labor by Sunday night we are going to induce you on Monday morning,” Melissa says firmly and Derek isn’t proud when he begs her to just do it already, grumpily pushing away Stiles’ hand when the man tries to comfort him.

Thankfully, Stiles doesn’t take it to heart and once he’s gotten over his disappointment Derek nuzzles against the Alpha’s forehead in apology, whispering a silent thank you for the man’s continued patience of steel.

Derek is done with pregnancy.

Absolutely, one-hundred percent done, and at the end of his 41st week of playing easy-bake-oven to the most stubborn little Biscuit in existence every single person around him knows about it.

“You know that idea we had? The one where we were going to find a sperm donor in a couple of years, both get pregnant and then go through the experience together? Let’s not, we’ll get divorced before they are even born!” Erica says loudly on Friday evening, right before she drags Boyd out the door with a huff and Derek would go after her to apologize, only he’s sitting in their most comfortable armchair and has absolutely no hope of getting up on his own at this point, weighed down by gravity and the approximately 20 pound baby pressing down on his bladder.

“It’s not 20 pounds, don’t be so dramatic Boo-Boo, it’s really getting old!” Laura chides, her own nerves almost as much on edge as Derek’s now that she’s almost convinced the baby is going to fall right out of him if he takes a wrong step and Cora steps in quickly, ushers her out the door before Derek can respond.

Stiles looks like a bunny getting shot at when he realizes he’s gone from a room full of people to being all alone with a super pissed 41 weeks pregnant Omega and even though his heartburn is literally eating away at his esophagus, his back feels like someone jammed an electrical steel-rod in it, and his feet are throbbing like third-degree burns, Derek has to laugh at the Alpha’s terrified look.

Stiles tries to give him the stink-eye for all of two seconds before his features soften and he walks over, kneels down in front of Derek and begins to gently knead his feet, his eyes asking for instructions that Derek ran out of when they tried penetrative sex to kick start labor at the beginning of the week and Derek’s body just about cramped up everywhere but his abdomen, effectively putting an end to the sexy-times and leaving him miserably pregnant.

“Want to go for a walk?” Stiles asks, holding out his hand as he gets up and Derek shakes his head, not at all interested in going out into the cold with a winter-jacket he could last close over his belly two weeks ago.

“Would you like some food?”

Derek considers and then shakes his head. He hasn’t eaten anything all day but he doesn’t feel hungry, desperately hopes it’s a sign that his body is finally getting ready for the birth.

“Want to hear all about my awesome romance plans tomorrow?”

Derek blinks, then winces when Biscuit tries to roll over before remembering that there is absolutely no space left for acrobatic maneuvers.

“Easy Baby! Papa’s mood is not going to improve if you pull a Chestbuster on him,” Stiles says gently, his hand rubbing comfortingly, and when the baby stills he grins at Derek, mouths, “Parenting win!” with such a proud expression that Derek’s bad mood evaporates completely, leaving him exhausted beyond measure but strangely at peace as he watches Stiles rest his cheek against his stomach, drags his fingers through the brown hair.

“Your romance plans?” he prompts and Stiles nods, looks up at him with a mischievous smile.

“Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. And since Biscuit seems to have inherited Cora’s idea of romance and refuses to cooperate I’ll just have to adapt my initial idea of serving you breakfast in bed and pampering you all day while you hold our baby in your arms to serving you breakfast and pampering you all day while we wait for your body to kick start a grueling and painful process. The perfect romance!”

“Sounds wonderful,” Derek says, surprised to find he means it and Stiles kisses him deeply, then bends down to kiss his belly with a whispered, “Come on already kiddo, we’re waiting!”

That evening Laura makes her famous lasagna and despite his previous assurances Derek almost licks his plate, feeling ravenous all of a sudden.

“It probably doesn’t mean anything,” he says as he digs into Cora’s non-alcoholic tiramisu, shaking his head at the three pairs of glowing red eyes that are watching him like a hawk, none of the three Alphas able to suppress their posturing instinct while in the proximity of an Omega so close to birth.

Afterwards he feels good but tired and by the time his head hits the pillow he’s already asleep, wedged in between Stiles and his beloved pregnancy pillow.

The next morning he wakes up to the winter sun shining through his window, a beaming Stiles, a tray full of delicious breakfast food, the most garish teddy bear with a big red heart on its fuzzy belly that Derek has ever seen, and an episode of _Doctor Who_ queued up on Netflix.

Stiles carefully arranges the tray so it won’t fall, crawls in next to Derek to snuggles against him and it’s all at once incredibly cheesy, romantic, domestic, and perfect.

Predictably, Derek goes into labor not even two minutes into the episode.

At his sudden pained groan Stiles flails so badly he knocks over the tray after all, sending the contents of a big glass of orange juice all over Derek’s lap and the rest to the floor with a crash.

When Laura rips open the door to his bedroom she accidentally tears off the handle, waving it around like she’s just won the trophy for ‘Most Protective Yet Completely Nerve-Wrecking Big Sister of the Year’.

It wouldn’t be the first time she’s won the honor, since Derek made up the award all the way back when he brought home his first Alpha-girlfriend, and because the contraction is over Derek feels inclined to laugh at her.

A lot.

“Your water broke! Cora, his water broke!” Laura screeches, completely beside herself and seconds later Cora charges into the room like there’s a raging bull trampling behind her, wearing only her underwear and sporting hickeys in places that Derek will have to have a stern Omega-to-Omega conversation with Isaac about later.

After he’s had his baby, that is.

“Not water, just orange-juice,” he says calmly, mutters, “Oh my god, _really_?” when Laura unceremoniously dips her finger into the puddle and sniffs to confirm and once she’s convinced that the little pieces of organic matter are in fact orange pulp and not Derek’s body disintegrating from the forces of the contractions and leaving him near death, she calms down a from a 10 to an 8.5.

Cora, as usual, is a bit more mellow about the situation, her anxiety level at a solid 6.75 when she yells, “I’ll get the hospital bag!”, completely misses it sitting next to the door and almost runs over Laura on her way out.

Stiles, meanwhile, is kneeling next to him with a nervous but joyful expression and Derek suddenly remembers that he and Scott spent a lot of their childhood in the waiting room at the OBGYN clinic, that he’s probably seen his fair share of Omegas in labor and knows that it can take a while, especially the first time.

It’s reassuring that he’s staying calm, especially when Cora runs back into the room wearing Isaac’s shirt inside-out and panting like a locomotive, exclaiming, “I can’t find that fucking bag … oh, there!” and looking like the successful birth of Derek’s baby absolutely hinges on the existence of a bag Derek only packed because he got tired of his sisters’ pestering.

Laura is pacing up and down like she’s on speed and Stiles clears his throat, letting his Alpha bleed into his voice when he says, “Alright, everyone calm down. We’re going to change the sheets, then we’ll continue watching the Doctor pretend he’s not completely in love with Rose Tyler, Derek is going to finish at least half of his breakfast because he’s going to be starving later otherwise and we’re going to stay completely cool until the contractions are ten minutes apart.”

“What happens when they are?” Laura whispers, terrified, and Stiles smiles, his fingers flexing just a little where they’ve been rubbing circles into Derek’s belly for the past five minutes.

“ _Then_ , oh Still-Scary-Alpha-Sister-in-Law-of-Mine, we’re going to freak the fuck out and break all the speed limits in our undoubtedly comedic attempt to get Derek to the hospital.”

“Sounds like a solid plan to me. Especially the freaking the fuck out. I think I’ll start practicing now. In silence,” Laura says, her voice shaking ever so slightly as she helps Derek up so they can change the orange-juice soiled sheets.

Two hours later the contractions are coming every 20 minutes and they’ve relocated to the living room, a change of scenery made necessary by the arrival of not only Boyd and Erica but also Lydia, who’s been rubbing Laura’s back and telling her to breathe for the past hour.

“I feel like I want to start a betting pool on whether or not Laura will faint when Lydia gives birth one day,” Erica muses, her knuckles digging into Derek’s lower back to relieve the tension as she puts her famed lower-back-massage skills to good use and Derek’s answering chuckle is interrupted by another contraction, making him groan instead.

They are getting stronger and more painful every time and Derek can feel Stiles’ tension, his hand gripping Derek’s tightly even as he talks Doctors with Cora.

The next contraction grazes the edge of Derek’s suffer-in-silence-pain-threshold and when he doubles over and downright screams fifteen minutes later Stiles declares, “Change of plans – we’re freaking the fuck out _right now_!”, his arms solid around Derek’s as he holds him, even though his heart is beating so fast Derek can feel it where he’s pressing his face against Stiles’ chest, his pained whimpers and gasps muffled by the pink Batman shirt Stiles had donned in the spirit of commercialized romantic holidays.

Derek is a little bit scandalized when he realizes that Stiles stole a police light to get him to the hospital faster than the speed limit allows (“Borrowed, not stole, I’ll totally give it back once our baby goes off to college, I promise!”) but Laura and Cora are very much in favor, and as Stiles climbs into the driver’s seat Derek sees Laura grasp his shoulder briefly, a comforting touch of acceptance that makes Stiles appear almost boneless in relief for a second.

Behind Derek, Cora reaches out to stroke his hair, and as they pull out of the driveway, closely followed by Erica, Boyd, Lydia, and Isaac in Lydia’s car, Derek feels decidedly blessed.

Six hours later Derek feels inclined to re-evaluate the situation.

He’s not blessed, he’s cursed; cursed with having to birth a demon spawn intent on killing him.

Next to him, Stiles looks completely disheveled but excited and Derek has a bunch of _opinions_ about that excitement, only he’s too busy howling in pain to share them with Stiles.

It’s a big baby, too, at least 9 pounds according to the ultrasound, and when Melissa says, “Remember that conversation we had about how controlled cutting is far preferable to uncontrolled tearing?” Derek bites his lips and nods, squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the next contraction.

Stiles’ hand is gripping his tightly and as the contraction rolls through his body Derek blocks out his surroundings, terrified he’ll actually hear the sound of the scissors cutting through his soft-tissue.

Next to him Laura declares, “Oh god, I’m going to faint!” and Cora hisses, “You faint, they kick you out, stop being so dramatic!” at which point Laura miraculously recovers, even though the fingers that stroke Derek’s sweaty hair are decidedly shaky.

When he opens his eyes again Derek is the proud owner of a birth canal big enough to exorcise his little demon and on a scale of ‘Harmless’ to ‘Never am I doing this again ever’ it’s decidedly not the worst thing that has happened to him today, even though Cora and Laura both look like they’re composing his epitaph.

By the time Melissa declares him ready to push Laura is standing behind Cora, who’s been tasked with holding one of Derek’s legs while Stiles holds the other, and Derek grips on to Laura’s and Stiles’ hands tightly, his mind completely blank and his body operating on instinct alone as he pushes, screams, and breathes, really not up for focusing on anything else.

His baby-boy enters the world at 8:28 PM, red, wrinkly, covered in goo, with a head shaped like a cone, and screaming in righteous indignation over being expelled from the safe warmth of Derek’s body.

“He’s got your lungs, Stiles, no doubt about it!” Melissa says, beaming as she places the crying baby on Derek’s chest and Derek holds him close, his voice raw as he whispers, “Welcome, son,” his heart singing _I love you, I love you, god, how much I love you_ as he kisses the little head, counts fingers and toes, smiles up at Stiles, tired but blissfully happy.

“He’s perfect, Derek!” Stiles breathes, kissing Derek’s lips, his nose, his chin, and when he cradles the baby in his arms his eyes flash Alpha red, full of pride and promise.

“You did good, Boo-Boo!” Laura sobs and Cora’s grin is equal parts smug and overjoyed as she kisses Derek’s forehead, whispers, “Knew it!” and looking extraordinarily proud of herself.

An hour and a half later Derek is all stitched and cleaned up, his sisters and their friends have headed out towards the bar where Derek met Stiles to celebrate the birth of Baby-Boy Hale-Stilinski in style and Stiles is sitting next to him on the bed, one arm wrapped around Derek’s shoulders and the other cradling their son.

Alpha-Omega-Baby bonding time during those first hours is important and as he watches his baby sleep peacefully Derek is beyond grateful that he gets to have this, gets to have both his baby _and_ Stiles.

“Told you he was going to have my nose,” Stiles says, voice brimming with affection, and Derek can’t help but gently tap the miniature button-nose, grinning when the baby coos in his sleep.

“He’s gorgeous,” Derek agrees, and Stiles nods proudly, whispers, “A handsome little Omega just like his Papa.”

“First of all, I don’t think 10.5 pounds is _little_ for a newborn and secondly, he’s going to be a strong, caring Alpha just like his Daddy,” Derek replies gently and Stiles chuckles, clearly doesn’t believe him.

Newborn babies don’t have the characteristic Alpha and Omega scents yet, the only way of telling aside from a blood-test are their eyes, but Derek _knows_ his baby is an Alpha, has known almost as long as he’s been sure his baby would be a boy, and he turns his head to kiss Stiles, resting their foreheads together for a moment.

In a society that still champions the saying “Build a house, plant a tree, sire an Alpha,” Stiles is a rare exception and while Derek is looking forward to Stiles cradling their Omega son or daughter in his arms one day, he’s also overcome with joy that he’ll get to see him teach their little boy all there is to know about being an Alpha, that they’ll get to experience the adventure of raising their son to be a kind, caring, strong Alpha together.

He’s dying with curiosity, though, eager to have final confirmation of his instincts and so he experimentally flashes his eyes, Omega gold shining with warmth and love as he holds his breath, waits.

Stiles lets out a loud gasp when the baby opens his eyes – shaped like Derek’s – and the vibrant red of a newborn Alpha flashes back.

“Told you,” Derek says softly and Stiles kisses him again, deeper this time, his joy and love tangible as he cradles Derek’s face.

“What should we name him?” Stiles asks when they separate and Derek chuckles, adjusting the baby when he coos.

“Well, so far Biscuit is the front-runner but Cora’s been making a pretty convincing case for Snuggle-Buns, so I’m undecided. Do you have a suggestion?”

“No hyphenated first name if we’re already doing Hale-Stilinski, the poor kid is going to hate us forever, so Snuggle-Buns is out. Seriously though, you must have at least some sort of idea, I mean, you’ve known about him for way longer than I have,” Stiles replies and Derek bites his lip, nods hesitantly.

“I guess. I mean, he’d probably answer to Biscuit now after all that belly-cooing, but to me he’s always kind of felt like a … Connor.”

“Connor?” Stiles asks, making a show of inspecting their son’s features before he taps his nose thoughtfully, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

“I like it. I wasn’t quite sure if I’d get a say in it, given the entire situation and everything, but I was wondering … would you mind if I chose the middle name?”

“The situation is that I love you and we’re going to be a family … _of course_ you get a say in it,” Derek chides him and Stiles smiles, kisses him ever so softly in response.

“Cool! Not in response to what you just said, I obviously love you, too, and I can’t believe I just replied ‘cool’ to the first time you’ve told me you do, but I’m pretty exhausted, so I hope you can forgive me. Also, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to name him Leopold. It’s an old family name and I promised my mother I’d carry on the tradition if I ever had a son. I’d like to honor that promise.”

“Connor Leopold Hale-Stilinski. I think he can handle that,” Derek decides and Stiles chuckles, his eyes moist as he whispers, “He definitely looks like he can.”

When Stiles gently traces their son’s fist with his index-finger Connor’s tiny fingers curl around him and Derek knows once and for all that they’re going to be ok.

 

_Epilogue – Two and a Half Years Later_

Lydia goes into labor right in the middle of defending her dissertation, bravely barrels on despite Laura’s increasingly distressed whines coming from outside the door and only allows her to take her to the hospital after she’s been assured – in writing – that she’s passed her defense magna cum laude.

By the time Cora, Isaac, Derek, Stiles, and Connor make it to the hospital Lydia is already pushing and an hour later a sobbing Laura stumbles into the waiting room to announce the birth of Alan and Emmy – named after two of Lydia’s favorite mathematicians.

Stiles carries Connor when they tiptoe into Lydia’s room and Derek chuckles softly at the intimidated look on his son’s face, rendered unusually silent at the sight of his baby-cousins, safely nestled in their mothers’ arms.

Laura beckons him over with a nod and Derek’s heart turns into just a little bit of goo when his big sister places her Omega son in his arms.

He’s smaller than Connor was but Derek can tell the family resemblance when the baby valiantly attempts to open his eyes, shaped just like Connor, Derek, and Laura’s.

Connor was born bald and didn’t start growing actual hair until he was 13 months but Alan’s tiny head is already covered and Derek figures that the trademark hazel eyes of the Hale family will go extraordinarily well with such a vibrant ginger.

Over on the other side of the bed Stiles is cradling their new Alpha-niece and when Derek turns his eyes away from the baby Stiles is looking at him with a soft, fond smile, his expression almost wistful.

He blushes when Derek catches him staring, quickly resumes his praises of the little girl’s ethereal beauty, but there’s a warm feeling spreading inside Derek now, like gentle fingers that are smoothing out the nausea that has been curling up inside his belly ever since his very illuminating bathroom-trip in the morning.

Connor, meanwhile, is shyly staring at Lydia, and even though their son had almost been inseparable from his aunt every time she visited them in the past couple of months (“It’s the Alpha in him, he already wants to protect the little ones” – “With what? Flinging his dirty diapers at approaching threats like a monkey?” – “Don’t mock the power of the diaper, _you_ of all people should know better Mr. I-Still-Gripe-At-Stiles-For-Fleeing-The-Scene-During-Explosive-Diarrhea-Gate-of-2016-Even-Though-Stiles-Really-Had-To-Work-And-Was-In-No-Way-Looking-For-An-Excuse-Because-He-Was-Grossed-Out-By-All-That-Liquid-Poop!”) he now looks decidedly unsure of this new situation.

The little adorable frown on his face only eases when Lydia wraps her arms around him and nuzzles his hair, reassuring him in simplest Omega fashion that he’s still her favorite little nephew.

The frown returns with a vengeance when Emmy starts crying, however, and Stiles quickly hands her back to her Omega mother, smiling in apology when Connor declares, “Baby loud. We go now.”

“It could have been worse. He could have said, ‘Baby stupid’,” Stiles muses as they drive back to their home and Derek nods a little distractedly, his smile somewhat wistful as he watches their little boy mutter to himself in his car seat through the rear-view mirror, one hand resting on his belly almost subconsciously.

Connor is half-asleep when Derek carries him up to his room and once he is safely tucked under the Batman blankets Stiles got for his first real big-boy bed Connor blinks up at Derek sleepily, pats his stubbly cheek in affection.

“Do you like your new baby-cousins?” Derek asks him, grasping his little fist and smacking kisses all over it and Connor giggles, his amber-brown hair tussled as he watches Derek earnestly, hazel eyes sleep-darkened but curious.

“Babies nice?” he asks, yawning and Derek nods, kisses his son’s forehead affectionately.

“Babies are very nice,” he assures him and Connor considers, then decides, “I like,” wiggling around until he’s reached his favorite falling-asleep position.

When Stiles tip toes into Connor’s room Derek’s still watching their son sleep and he settles in behind Derek on the floor, whispers, “Such a creeper,” affectionately as he wraps his arms around Derek’s middle, encouraging him to lean back against the Alpha’s chest.

“I’d almost forgotten how tiny they are in the beginning. Looking at him now I can’t even believe he was ever so small,” Stiles whispers and Derek shakes his head with a soft snort, answers, “He was never that tiny. 10.5 pounds, remember?”

“Vividly. Remind me to give you your monthly ‘Thanks for birthing my big-headed giant baby, I know it wasn’t fun’-present later,” Stiles assures him, rubbing his belly affectionately, and Derek chuckles, feeling the last threads of nervousness slipping away.

“So, it turns out that despite his less than enthusiastic conduct at the hospital, our son likes his baby-cousins after all,” Derek says and Stiles smiles against his ear, his fingers slipping under the hem of Derek’s shirt and resting there in a protective manner, palms warm against his belly.

“That’s good. Really good. Would have been kind of awkward in a couple of months otherwise.”

He gently cups the barely noticeable rounding of Derek’s abdomen and the Omega quite literally doesn’t breathe for a moment, genuinely shocked.

When he turns around to face him with an incredulous expression Stiles’ eyes are shining with happiness, his fingers gently stroking Derek’s skin as his smile widens.

“Uh … surprise? I’m sorry, you probably wanted to tell me yourself, but I’ve pretty much been sitting on this information for the past six weeks until you finally figured it out! I was seriously considering leaving clues, I was starting to get that desperate! And when you took forever in the bathroom this morning and came out looking shell-shocked but happy I knew that you’d _finally_ caught on and I waited all day for you to tell me, I swear, but then Laura called and stole all the thunder! Those babies of hers are adorable, so I forgive her, but _man_ , then you just _had_ to look all perfect holding that baby and seriously, I deserve a medal for self-restraint for not blurting it out then and there!”

Derek kisses him, one hand cradling Stiles’ cheek as the other comes to rest on the Alpha’s hands on his abdomen and when they part he cocks his head, almost impressed against his will.

“Six weeks? Seriously?”

“To tell you the truth I was always convinced that the whole Alpha-Sixth-Sense-for-Successful-Breeding thing was a total myth invented by some Alphas with an inflated knot, but when I woke up the morning after your last heat I looked at you and I just … knew. Granted, I wasn’t a hundred percent convinced until you started taking all these naps two weeks ago, but yeah, I knew. Fyi, so does Cora, she gave me the stink-eye for almost an hour when we were sitting in that waiting room. I consider it proud approval, I’m not going to lie.”

“I _thought_ your sudden desire to kiss my stomach during sex was a bit weird,” Derek muses and Stiles shrugs, looking decidedly unapologetic.

“Get used to it, I have months of worshipping touches to make up for and we might as well start right now!”

“On the floor of our son’s room? Early childhood trauma aside I can think of a far more comfortable place,” Derek chides him and Stiles sighs, shaking his head in amusement.

“Here I was, waxing poetically over planning to kiss and worship every growing inch of you and all you and your sex-crazed hormones can think about is your dick! The _shame_ , Derek, the shame!”

“What can I say, I’ve got a couple of other _growing inches_ that require immediate attention. Now whisk me away and ravish me oh powerful Alpha-Breeder mine,” Derek says drily, taking great pains to keep from bursting into laughter and waking their son at the look on Stiles’ face.

“Beautiful. So beautiful. Alright then, beloved mate of mine, never let it be said that I didn’t adhere to my pregnant Omega’s every wish. One whisking-adventure coming right up,” Stiles finally gets out, his face just a little red from suppressed laughter and Derek leans forward with a grin, curling up his legs just a little for easy access into the bridal-carry.

“On second thought,” Stiles muses halfway into the lifting-attempt, his eyes mischievous as he regards Derek, “you might want to put all the muscles that are currently making it absolutely impossible for me to lift you to good use and whisk _me_ away. That is if you still can.”

Derek can and he does, unceremoniously throws Stiles over his shoulder and carries him to their bedroom.

Stiles lets out a breathless laugh when he’s dumped on the bed and then he’s scrambling for Derek, rids him of his shirt and immediately goes to town on his promise of kissing literally every inch of him, smacking them everywhere he can reach in the most obnoxious Erica-fashion.

By the time he’s reached Derek’s belly, however, his touches have turned infinitely gentle, the barest grazing of lips dragging over Derek’s sensitive skin and even though Derek’s inner romantic loves all the attention he’d rather have mind-blowing sex instead.

It takes a filthy moan and a somewhat crude thrusting of his hips for Stiles to get the message.

A while later Stiles slings his arm around Derek’s freshly showered, orgasm-pliant body, hand once more coming to rest over their growing baby and Derek’s almost asleep when Stiles whispers, “Mark my words though, this one is _definitely_ a little Omega!”

Derek smiles, his voice sleepy-soft but full of conviction.

“I know he is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> If you want to know what happens next, the first part of the sequel is now online: [Vacancy Inn by Hale](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6237640)

**Author's Note:**

> Next Up: Cora composes lots of Craigslist ads and has to delete a bunch of dick-picks, Laura gives up on ever finding the right Scott Delgado, and Derek makes a couple of new friends.


End file.
